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2018-10-21
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2024-03-05
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Snippets of Life

Summary:

A series of stand-alone chapters of 1000 words or less inspired by one word prompts. Mostly Legolas & Thanduil centered but many others are featured or mentioned. There's nothing overly graphic or sexual in any of the chapter.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

It was a cold and rainy afternoon when Galion entered the meeting room, a young prince wrapped tightly in his arms, tiny arms around his neck and face pressed into his shoulder. Thranduil called for a break immediately.

 

As swiftly as proper manners would allow in such a setting he crossed the room to his attendant and seemingly melancholy son. Upon seeing him Legolas detached from Galion’s throat and reached for him, face void of its usual bright smile.

 

“He found me near your study, apparently he had gone there to find you,” Galion said, passing Legolas from one set of warm and loving arms into another.

 

Thranduil pulled him against his chest, small head just below his chin, “Come here, little leaf.”

 

Galion held the door open for all three of them to slip outside into the hallway, where there was less of an audience. He waited a few moments, very gently rocking the small elfling before asking very softly, “What's wrong, my sunshine?”

 

Legolas shrugged, so Thranduil readjusted him so that they could look one another in the eyes. Sometimes his son did come and find him just because he missed him, or had something he wanted to tell him. But this was not one of those times.

 

His eyes were sad, and he was soft and unmoving like he was only moments before sleep. Thranduil ran a hand through his son's hair before pressing it against his cheek, “No something is bothering you. You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

 

Legolas pressed his lips into a line and nodded just slightly, glancing down he began idly braiding his father's long blond hair, “Sometimes I get sad.”

 

For just a moment it was as if the air had been sucked from his lungs, and he swallowed past an impossible lump in his throat, “Sad about Nana?”

 

The elfling nodded, so softly it was hard to notice. Thranduil hadn’t noticed the tears until Legolas wiped his cheek for him, “I still get sad about her sometimes too.”

 

“She used to read me stories when it rained. Can you tell me stories about Nana?”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

“Tell me about when you met.”

 

Thranduil looked down at where his son had sprawled across the carpet in front of the fire, “Again?”

 

It was hard to see him very often now since he had moved to Ithilien, but sometimes he still got to.

 

Legolas glowered up at him half-heartedly, “Yes again.”

 

There was a flash of lightning and Legolas counted out loud for the both of them until a loud clap of thunder rattled the room (Three Elophants), and then Thranduil began the story of how he met his wife all those years ago. For what seemed like the thousandth time.    

Chapter 2: Believe

Chapter Text

“I didn’t mean for this to happen Ada, I swear! It was an accident you have to believe me.”

 

“Oh I believe you, but at a certain point Legolas it doesn’t matter what you ‘meant’ to do.” Thranduil snapped, attempting to give his son a stern expression but struggling the moment his son winced in pain.

 

“I didn’t think it would end like this.”    

 

“Well I certainly hope so.”

 

The healer attending to the prince tried not to smile as he finished wrapping the broken arm. There was a somewhat tense moment of silence before Legolas said one of the boldest sentences the healer had ever heard anyone say to the king: “So I suppose this means I’m not going to Imladris for the summer solstice?”

 

“With a broken arm and three broken ribs? Really?”

 

Legolas winced at his father's tone, groaning in pain when it jostled his ribs, “I mean, Lord Elrond is one of the greatest healers on Arda. If they are going to be broken anyways -

 

“No, I don’t want to hear the rest of that sentence.”

 

“But Ada-”

 

Thranduil was already halfway out of the room, “Believe me, little leaf, under no circumstances are you going to Imladris this summer.”

 

“But Ada-” Legolas tried again, calling after his father's retreating back.

 

“Still don’t want to hear it!”  

Chapter 3: Kitchen

Chapter Text

Orbryn heard the familiar sound of a babies crying wail echoing down the stairwell leading to the kitchen long before he was even close to them himself.

Familiar because of his younger siblings, not because this was a normal sound to be heard from the kitchen.

Curiosity getting the best of him, he hurried down the steps to the warm kitchen below, stopping in surprise at the bottom when he saw the king and his very young son. Very young.

He had never seen the king so close before, hardly seen him at all in fact since he had returned from the war.  

And now they were alone in the massive kitchen together.

Apparently, the king had been singing to the little prince the kingdom had met only a month ago but he stopped when Orbryn reached the bottom stairs, “Forgive me, I did not realize the time.”

Orbryn could not make his body do anything other than blink dumbly and stutter, “Your majesty?”

The king seemed almost as confused, “I did not realize that you would be starting soon, I would not like a screaming baby in my office while I was trying to work I would imagine you would not like one in your kitchen while you work.”

His brain was doing no better at controlling the rest of him, “He’s the prince.”

“He is.” The king glanced down adoringly, “But a screaming baby is a screaming baby.”

His big brother instincts came to life before any other part of him, “You should give him some wine on a napkin, it’ll help him sleep. It's his teeth.”

“Pardon?”

And then a heavy, cold dose of fear washed over him, “I have four younger siblings, my mother did it all of the time, I apologi-”

The king shook his head slightly, “Show me if you would.”

“Certainly.” Quickly he found an opened bottle of wine and poured some onto the corner of a clean napkin, hesitantly he approached the prince and allowed his tiny hands to grab at the fabric. As expected, the immediately put the wet end in his mouth as babes were known to do.

Half an hour later, the king was wishing him a good evening on his way to put his newly sleeping son to bed, just in time for sunrise.

…………………………………….

Orbryn had been curious about who the mysterious owners of the teacups were, the ones that appeared sometime in the dead of night, every night, without fail for over a year now. Sometimes there were three, but usually only two neatly stacked and rinsed cups waited for him in the basin of water.

Perhaps he should have guessed.

Inside, nestled on the ground and rocking softly with a half-asleep elfling in his lap was the king. One hand ran through the small one's hair while the other held open a book, on the table in front of them were two teacups yet come to their nightly resting place.

………………………………………….

He saw the little hand moments before he successfully snagged a fresh pastry, the ones meant for the celebration tonight. “Ah!” Orbryn barked, and the hand froze.

Two huge eyes were just barely tall enough to peer at him over the top of the counter, round and wanting. Orbryn smiled, “Take two, just don't tell your father.”

In a flash and grin, the prince was scrambling back up the steps with his prize.

………………………………………

There was a small and gentle tug on his sleeve, and he had to admit it was starting. He was used to Legolas running around underfoot, but never this early. And if it was, that meant the king was still up with him from the night.

But this time it was Galion with him and immediately Orbryn knew there was some sneaking around going on.

Legolas held out a bowl of fresh strawberries, enough that it probably would have taken a few hours of searching at this time of year, “Ada isn’t feeling very happy, can you put these in his breakfast this morning? They’re his favorite.”

“Of course.”

………………………………

“It was amazing, Ada!”

Orbryn smiled a little to himself as he began peeling potatoes, he wished everyone was as enthusiastic about life as Legolas.

“Yes, it certainly sounds it! I’m glad you had fun.”

He also wished everyone was as earnest in listening to their children as Thranduil.

………………………….

So many of their children had not fallen and left for the halls since they left their last home.

Silently and without being asked Orbryn refilled their wine cups and added a few more logs to the fire they both sat in front of. They had not said anything, not even to each other since he had arrived.

………………………………

The kitchen already smelled like delicious food when he opened the last door, “Isn’t it a bit early for breakfast?”

Legolas smiled and quickly swallowed his mouthful of eggs, (Thranduil's specialty) “I’m leaving at sunrise again, we wanted to have one last breakfast together before I left.

……………………………….
It was a long time since his kitchen was last this crowded at such a time, but of the thirteen occupants only two remained awake and looking over one of the dozen maps spread around them.
………………………….

“I think that is enough for now, my leafling.”

It had been months since Legolas was allowed out of bed, and had only just recently been moved to his own room and out from under the watchful eye of the healers.

“Just one more.”

The counters made a good support for teaching legs to walk again.

……………………………

“What is it?”

Orbryn looked down at the basin, at the sight that had become the norm for the last century and a half, “I did not know how sad finding only one single dirty teacup in my sink could make my heart, until this war.”

……………………...

Chapter 4: Hide

Chapter Text



It had become very apparent to Legolas once he got older that his mother's death had not been an accident, even though everybody he knew was very careful never to say otherwise.

The Orcs did not just happen to attack them the day he and his mother had gone into the forest to play, they had been sent to find them.

That was the thing fighting against Sauron, unlike the Orcs he planned, calculated and schemed. He watched, learned, and applied it. He guessed at the best ways to try and take down the kingdom of Greenwood the Great, and the best way to start was to get rid of the king.

Many attempts had been made to have him killed to no avail, and so he had gone a less direct route. Slaughter those the king loved and watch him fade to grief.  

His mother must have realized this because, after half an hour of running through the forest with him held strongly in her arms, she had buried him at the base of a tree, begging it to hide him amongst the roots and conceal him.  

She told him that he was not to move or make a sound, no matter what, until Ada came for him.

She kissed his head, told him how much she loved him and left into the forest without him.

The tree was scared, he could tell but he did not understand why. It tried to comfort him nonetheless, but it did not work. He wanted his Nana. But he stayed where he was just as she had told him to do.

He heard her screaming. But he didn't move, he didn’t say anything, he just covered his ears and waited for it to be over.

Eventually, the evil creatures had come sniffing towards him, faceless shadows of the forest that wreaked of unpleasant things.

The tree clutched him tighter and lowered a few more branches to conceal him fully in the undergrowth.

He knew these creatures could not find him, and so he did just as his Nana had told him, and he did not move and he did not make a sound.

Slowly, more dark creatures began swirling about him. Oblivious to the tiny creature at their feet. He would learn later that this was the beginning of the invasion, the one that sent his people fleeing from their city and into the mountain.

They threw their fires behind them when they left, igniting the forest. Then even the tree’s could not help him, all they could do was push him away and tell him to run. To this day he could remember how the coals he stepped on had burnt his bare feet, and the smoke choked his lungs.

Blindly he stumped his way through the forest as it burned around him, at first he had tried calling for his father but quickly gave up as the smoke scorched his throat and stole his voice.

Eventually, he stumbled to a part of the forest where he could still hear the faint voice of the tree’s, and they directed him into a cave to shield him from the flames, sacrificing themselves and willfully falling over the doorway to keep anything sinister from joining him.

He sat at the back of the cave, knees drawn to his chest, hands covering his ears to try and drown out the sounds from outside.

……………………………………………………………………...

He was numb as he stared down at the charred body of his beloved wife, recognizable only by the necklace she always wore. The necklace he had made for her at the very beginning of their relationship. It was far from perfect, smithing had never been his specialty, but she had adored it nonetheless.

They hadn't found his son. They his hadn’t even found his tiny body.

Never, had he wished someone he loved to be dead. But he wished with every breath left in his body that his poor baby boy was dead, and safe with Mandos and his mother in the halls. And not taken.

Not taken, not taken, not taken, not taken, not taken, not taken, not taken, not taken, not taken.

Every breath he took felt like he was inhaling shards of glass, and his blood burned inside of his veins.

He wasn’t aware of how long he had been standing there, looking down that the elleth who had stolen his heart so completely. He wasn't sure how it still beat without her when Galion came bursting into the room, “Thranduil! The tree’s call for you. They have Legolas.”    

He tried not to hope. Tried to remind himself that just because the tree’s ‘had’ his son did not mean he was still alive. He tried not to hope. But he did anyway.

With every step he took, every beat of his heart, he hoped a bit more. Hoped. Prayed. Begged.

The tree’s directed him to a cave which entrance had been covered by charred remnants of what had once been a massive Oak tree. How was it possible that his tiny son would be safe and sound inside?

He got as close as he could to the entrance and called as loudly as his own charred throat would allow, choking on his own tears, “Legolas?”

“Ada?” The voice was small, pitiful and desperate.

That was all the encouragement Thranduil needed and somehow he managed to squeeze himself between the branches of the fallen tree, contorting himself un-naturally until he fell through the last few branches and into the cave.

Even after so much determination to keep beating his heart stopped.

Legolas was pressed to the back of the cave, the bottoms of his feet completely charred and bloody, his clothes sporting holes that had been burned into them and the skin underneath, lips dry and split, his voice weak and hardly audible. “Ada!”

The elfling attempted to move towards his father but fell to the ground with a cry of pain the very second his feet touched the cave floor, but it did not matter, he was in his father's arms in hardly a second anyways.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

Thank you all again for the wonderful support, I cannot thank you enough.

It warms my heart like a bonfire.

 

I would love nothing more than to keep hearing from you!

Chapter 5: Nightmare

Notes:

Sorry, its a day late!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The sound of his Ada's voice woke him, but not the gentle sounds of Thranduil calling softly from the doorway, or scooping him up from the bed to hum or sing a song with the birds in the morning light. Giving his beloved Greenleaf several minutes to fully wake up, still safe, snuggled and warm before starting getting him ready for the day.

This time Legolas was startled awake, his heart pounding in his chest so loud it seemed to echo in his ears. This time is his father's voice was not soft, and loving like he was used to but panicked. Scared.

Something was wrong with his Ada.

Legolas threw the covers back and struggled out of his new ( much bigger) bed, laying on his stomach he dangled his legs carefully off the edge and slipped onto the soft rug that covered the usually ice cold stone. He rushed to the open doorway but paused, staring into the impossible dark that was their home in the middle of the night after the fires went out.

He didn’t like the dark, especially when he had to submerge himself into it. You never knew what was hiding in the dark waiting to gobble little elflings up for a snack. He had seen some of these creatures, the night his Nana left and had no intention nor desire to ever see them again. That was why he never left his bed at night when he needed something, he just called for Ada. And Ada would come.

In the other bedroom, across the sitting area, Thranduil made a noise that sounded nearly strangled and that was all it took to spur Legolas’ feet into one of the fastest sprints they had ever accomplished. He got across the room and into the safety of his Ada’s bedroom before any monsters had a chance to so much as a poke one of his toes.

He might have celebrated, but his eyes were fixed on the figure in the bed. It appeared the weird noise he had made was him waking up, still gasping for breath like he had been drowned and eyes staring emptily at the empty spot in the bed next to him.

Legolas knew the signs of a dark dream when he saw them, as he suffered from them regularly himself, but his Ada always knew what to do and say to make him feel better. He didn’t know what to do. But then he noticed his Ada’s tears.

Ada never cried.

His tiny feet finished their journey and came to a stop by the bed, usually, he would just climb up and plop himself down in his Ada’s lap but he had been warned by Galion to be very careful not to startle him at night because then he might accidentally hurt him. He didn't like surprises, Legolas knew that unless it was a drawing or flowers or a mid-day visit.

“It's just a dark dream, Ada. It's okay.” Legolas tried to say it softly but felt like he didn’t do a very good job of it when his Ada jumped noticeably with a tiny gasp. “Don’t cry. It's okay.”

Before he knew it, warm strong hands lifted him up off the ground and onto the bed, plopping him in what used to be the spot he always wedged himself in between his parents. There had been no wedging for some time now.

Legolas looked into his father's eyes and saw his sadness, saw that the dream wasn’t fading with wakefulness. They didn’t always fade for him either, but his Ada would always bring him back to his own bed where he could tell him stories and tickle him until he didn’t remember the dream anymore. Because Ada knew how to fix things.

He didn’t know, but that didn't mean Legolas did not intend to try.

Without waiting for words or an invitation he crossed the distance between them and pulled himself onto his father's lap, wiping at every damp spot he could find in the dark, “I’m sorry I can’t make it better.”

He didn’t say anything for a long while just wrapped Legolas in the strong arms he loved so much, holding him a close as possible without suffocating or hurting the small being. Then, after a while he kissed Legolas’ head, rearranging them both so at least there was a chance of the elfling sleeping the rest of the night, “You do make it better, my little leaf. You always do.”

Notes:

Please remember to review!!!!!

Chapter 6: Questions

Chapter Text

"Ada?"

"Yes, my Greenleaf?"

"Why is the sky blue?"

"Because it's Eru's favorite color."

"Oh. Is that why the ocean is blue? I've heard it's blue."

"Yes, that's why it's blue."

"Have you ever seen the sea, Ada?"

"Yes, I have."

"Is it blue?"

"Yes."

"Is it a nice blue?"

"Yes."

"Ada?"

"Yes, my Greenleaf?"

"If blue is Eru's favorite color, why are we not blue?"

"He already made the sky and the sea blue, there has to be some other colors in the world. Otherwise, we cannot appreciate each one properly."

"Oh. Ada, what's your favorite color?"

"Green."

"Green is a nice color."

"Yes, I think so too."

"My favorite colors is yellow. Not like my hair, like a flower."

"Yellow is a very nice color, too."

"Does everybody have a favorite color?"

"I imagine so."

"Ada?"

"Yes, Greenleaf?"

"Why can't Elladan and Elrohir talk to the trees?"

"That sounds like something you could ask the trees."

"I did, they said they do not notice them the same way."

"Then there is your answer."

"Ada?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"Do you think I will ever meet an Ent? Galion is reading a story to me and there are Ents and he says that they are still alive."

"Perhaps one day."

"Have you ever met an Ent, Ada?"

"No, I haven't."

"Do you want to?"

"They are too far to travel too."

"That isn't an answer to my question."

"Yes, it would be an amazing experience."

"We could invite them here, that way, we wouldn't have to leave. They like forests, and ours is a very nice forest."

"The idea has its merits, but I do not think there is a way to send a message to them. I'm honestly not sure we even speak the same language."

"Ada?"

"Yes?"

"Why don't you talk to Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn very much?"

"Because they don't like me."

"Why not?"

"They think I'm mean."

"Well that is very mean of them to say so, you are very nice. The nicest."

"Thank you, sunshine. But I know I can be mean sometimes, and Lord Elrond has always been a good judge of character."

"Apparently not. Ada?"

"Mhmm?"

"If they do not like you, does that mean they do not like me?"

"No. They liked you very much, and were sincere in the offer to allow you to stay a summer when you are older."

"Okay. Ada?"

"Oh, good! You're here!"

"Come, little prince, let's go read a book where we can watch the rain."

"The one with the Ents?"

"Yes, the one with the Ents."

"Galion, what is your favorite color?"

The door closed before he heard the answer, and finally, there was silence.

Chapter 7: Training

Notes:

Sorry this is a few days late! And I'll see you in a few more!

Chapter Text

Thranduil wandered into the center of the training field where Ferdan stood staring at the far end of the woods expectantly.

 

The summer heat was in full effect, and so the instructor stood bare cheated and unconcerned about his labyrinthine of scars.

 

“When did they start?”

 

“An hour before sunrise.”

 

Thranduil let out a loud, low whistle. “I hope you do not plane to train them again tomorrow, for i fear there will be nothing of the elflings left to train.”

 

“That depends on how long they last today.”

 

He cast his eyes around the training field once more, taking in the many complex and tiring obstacles set up to exhaust every part of their body.

 

“Running the north loop?” The long one that crossed rivers, up sides of cliffs and one swamp. The trail not so much a trail but a hint a deer had once come that way several years before, and Ferdan expected it to remain as such.

 

“Of course.”

 

Ferdan did not train warriors for battle, he trained assassin's, rouges, and archers to survive until the bitter end of time.

 

Warriors were useless to him. Warriors could do only one thing. But if he managed to train them for many things all at once, the possibilities were endless.

 

“Poor things.”

 

O9o9o9ooo9o

 

The sky glowed in pinks and purples, lighting the faces of the elves who had come to watch now that the days work was over.

 

It was a common pastime in Greenwood, to watch Ferdan torture his warriors.

 

At the far end of the field Legolas burst from the trees, Farlen not far behind. They both started the obstical course to the music of rousing cheers from the spectators.

 

Not long after came Avaleina and Eloassia, their shorter legs making it difficult to keep up with the other two.

 

The most motivated four. The most angry. The ones who had lost the most, too young.

 

Ferdan got up from the chair that had been brought out for him to sit and rest his mangled left leg, the twin to the one Thranduil had settled in.

 

“Is that an arm I see shaking, Legolas?” He bellowed, stalking back and forth across where the four of them continued the course.

 

“No, Sir!”

 

It was.

 

Thranduil couldn't blame him.

 

“Are you tired, princling?”

 

“No, Sir!”

 

It was clear to see he was exhausted.

 

“Then I expect you to go faster!”

 

“Yes, Sir!”

 

Somehow, he did. And Ferdan moved to ‘motivate’ another.

 

The four has already vanished back into the trees when the next thick cluster of warriors entered, “Your Prince has already come and gone! Do you plan to never be able to keep up with him?”

 

Various “No, Sirs!” could be heard from the cluster.

 

“Then I plan to see that in your actions! Go, Go, go, go!”

 

09090909090

 

The first of the stars glowed in the sky, making Legolas look more pale and sick than he did anyways.

 

Thranduils own limbs felt like jelly just watching this.

 

“Is that a you have?”

 

“No!” His teeth were gritted closed with the effort of the exercise and keeping himself upright.

 

“Is that all the work and effort you have to give your warriors?”

 

“No!”

 

Ferdan didn't mention more than half of the other warriors had started dropping like flys the last three laps. Their tired bodies physically unable to continue.  

 

“Good! Keeping going!”

 

Legolas vanished into the trees once more.

 

0909099090

 

The last five left looked on the verge of passing out. Yet Ferdan still stalked up and down the length of the training field critiquing them.

 

“Are you tired?”

 

“No, Sir!”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

They didn't have the breath to spare more than two words.

 

They were getting close to finishing the course and starting another lap. “Are you going to keep running?”

 

“Yes, Sir!”

 

Like a flip has been switched Ferdans harsh and commanding voice was replaced with a more pleasant one, “I admire the commitment but there is no need, you're done. You can stop.”

 

“Oh, thank the Valar.” Legolas groaned, letting go of the bar he had been scrambling on and falling to the ground with a thud.

 

“I'm going to die.” Avaleina groaned from where she had likewises crumpled to the ground. “No, I'm going to be sick, and then I'm going to die.”

 

“I don't have the energy to die.” Farlen groaned back.

 

“I'm content to die,” Legolas added, “If it can lay here and not move while I do it.”

 

What was left of the crowd quickly began to disperse and Thranduil made it over so where his son had planted himself in the dirt. “And here I thought you would be too disappointed about not going to Imladris to die.”

 

“There is no disappointment in death,” As if realizing something startling for the first time his eyes went wide, “Ada! What are you doing in the halls of Mandos! Wait, if you're here, and I'm here, then who's running Greenwood?”

 

Thranduil couldn't help but smile at his sons dramatics, “The same person who has been running it for centuries, Galion.”

 

“Our people are in safe hands, then.”

 

“The safest.”

 

Legolas’ eyes drifted closed as he continued to struggle to catch his breath, “I can't feel my legs, do I still have legs?”

 

“Two of them.”

 

“Oh, good. I think I'm supposed to have that many.”

 

“Are you coming inside to bed?”

 

His eyes didn't open, his limbs resting like lead, “Unless you plan to carry me, I sleep under the stars tonight.”

 

“It's supposed to rain.”

 

“I don't care.”

 

Thranduil shrugged and before Legolas could register what was happening he had him hanging like a dead deer over his shoulder. “You're lucky you're my favorite son.”

 

“I have never been so happy to be an only child.”

 

Ferdan called out across the field, “I will see the first fifteen to fall tomorrow's sunrise.” And then, softer again, “You did good, elflings. I'm proud of you.”

 

And then with a voice like iron again, “Do not think this praise means you can start slacking off! I'm watching you!”









Chapter 8: Morning

Chapter Text

“Good Morning!” Thranduil heard Galion’s voice across the shared living space in Legolas’ room, as always, disturbingly cheerful for such an early hour.

 

Legolas groaned and there was a thud that sounded suspiciously like a pillow being thrown, and Thranduil knew he was next.

 

He heard the door open. “Don’t.”

 

“I’m afraid so my king.”

 

“If the sun is not yet up I don’t understand why I have to be.”

 

“Because the early bird get’s the worm.”

 

“I don’t need a worm, I need sleep.”

 

“Well, you’re getting a worm anyways. Up.”

 

The door clicked shut and Thranduil resisted the urge to throw his pillow against the door. Like father like son, he supposed.

 

He had about five minutes before Galion came to yell at them again, and he didn’t plan to squander it.

 

00oooo000

 

“Legolas! Up!”

 

He startled back awake and tried to roll over, already done with the dreary winter day but Galion seized the blanket, Legolas groaned, half-heartedly tugging back “Why are you like this?”

 

“I would not have to be this way if you were more cooperative!” He wrestled the blanket away successfully and tore it off the bed, exposing Legolas to the cold air.

 

“Ah! Why!” Begrudgingly he stumbled out of bed, “Fine. Look, I’m standing.”

 

“Good, now go bother your father.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Snatching his favorite blanket he wrapped it around him like a shawl he shuffled his way into his father's room. Without hesitation, he climbed onto the empty side of the bed and snatched his fathers comb from the nightstand and set to work on his braids.

 

“Did the creature sent personally from the Valar to punish me send you to do his dirty work for him?”

 

Legolas yawned mightily, “He did.”

 

“Disgusting.”  

 

“I know.”

 

“Your braids are uneven.”

 

With another yawn, Legolas collapsed onto the bed, “I don’t care. If it bothers you so much you fix them.”

 

“I would have to move.”

 

“Mhmm.” Legolas’ voice was heavy with sleep, “Besides, it’ll bother Ava enough that she’ll redo them.”

 

“That's true.” He didn’t know why he responded, Legolas was already back asleep.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

When Galion returned for the third time ten minutes later it was suspiciously silent in the space and he marched to Thranduil's bedroom, finding both royals asleep once more. “Honestly, you two.”

 

They both groaned.  

 

They were not moring people as a rule, but it had been some time since they had last been this bad. Part of him felt bad to keep bothering them, but unfortunately, the needs of a kingdom under attack waited for no elf.

 

He clapped his hands together, “Don’t make me sing my morning song, because I will.”

 

“Oh, Valar no.” Legolas groaned, slithering off the bed like a boneless snake, somehow keeping himself wrapped in the blanket.

 

“I hate you,” Thranduil said with some conviction as he finally threw the blankets off the bed and stood.

 

“I know.” He held the door open for them expectantly, they were not to be trusted alone in a room any longer.  Especially not one with a bed. “Breakfast is on the table, eat it and be merry or I will sing you the song of the morning people.”

 

Legolas seemed to give it a moment of deep contemplation if he should stand or just roll across the floor, had it not ben winter and the floors so cold he probably would have, but he pulled himself upright. “I can’t wait to go to bed tonight.”

 

With one last longing look to the bed, they both left the bedroom to start their day, finally.

Chapter 9: SongFic

Chapter Text

I wrote it to one of my current obsessions “If We Have Each Other.” By Alec Benjamin and used the chorus for the story.

 

Also, if you want the full heartbreaking effect might I suggest re-reading chapter: 4 Hide as this takes place later the same day.

 

Aka right after the Queen dies.

 

I hope you like it!

 

..…..000000000…….




The bed felt cold and empty without her in it, almost as empty as he himself felt. They both felt.

He and Legolas both felt it clinging to the deepest parts of them.

 

He clung to his father as if his heat could make up for her absence. As if his father's heartbeat could drown out the sound of everything his too young ears had heard.

 

Thranduil sat upright against the headboard, gently rocking the most precious thing the Eru had ever created back and forth. His arms were wrapped tightly around the elfling, with one hand holding his head solidly to his chest like it would erase the memory of the long, long hours he had spent alone.

 

Legolas still hadn’t stopped crying since Thranduil had found him in the cave. Thranduil wasn’t sure if he had either.

 

“Too quiet.” His little leaf whispered. He did not like the silence anymore. Nobody would after spending an eternity in the dark alone, trapped. Hurting.

 

How were either of them ever going to stop crying?

 

Somehow it was easier to sing than to speak. Somehow his voice did not sound as cracked as he felt. “The world's not perfect, but it's not that bad,”  

 

Legolas managed to snuggle closer, “If we got each other, and that's all we have,”

 

“I will be your father, and I'll hold your hand,” He would not leave. He would not leave. He would not fade. He could not fade. He would not leave.

 

“You should know I'll be there for you,” He kissed Legolas’ head, and closed his eyes. Not able to look at the empty space beside him.

 

“When the world's not perfect,” Legolas hiccuped another sob in his arms, “When the worlds not kind,”

 

A promise. “If we have each other then we'll both be fine,”

 

He would not leave. He would not fade. “I will be your father, and I'll hold your hand,”

 

Slowly his voice began to fail him, “You should know I'll be there for you.”



Chapter 10: Drowning

Chapter Text

This is more than double the length it's supposed to be, but it's almost the  new year so

I Don’t Care.

 

Enjoy!!

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Legolas heard the noise before it was too late to do anything about it.

 

A growl ahead, and even worse, an answering snarl behind. Barely heard over the thundering waterfall.

 

Panic struck him like lightning and he grabbed onto Estel's arm and pulled him back, the ledge was too then to squish the small human behind him for protection and there were no caves or crevices to push him into.

 

The growl had been closer than the snarl, and so he looked ahead.

 

0o0o0o0

 

Estel turned back to Legolas, confused why all of a sudden the elf had a death grip on his arm. But stopped when he saw the look in his friend's eyes.

 

He had never, not even once, seen Legolas scared.

 

Not even five summers ago when Legolas and his brothers had allowed him to go come camping with them and they woke to find that a group of wild cats seemed to have decided to make a meal out of them. Elladan and Elrohir had looked afraid, but not Legolas.

 

But now he looks terrified. “Estel, are you a good climber?”

 

He swallowed hard, usually, he would fear being seen as weak with such an honest answer, he shouted to ensure he was heard, “Tree’s, yes. Rockewalls? No.”

 

Legolas eyes began darting around the rock wall next to them, searching for something.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

How he wished the human could climb. But the child was not strong enough to fight the current of the waterfall in the small pool below.

 

Estel would drown.

 

He searched the walls around him for any kind of ledge or grip he might put the child on, or root to help secure him. But there was nothing.

 

He reached out with his mind to the trees, allowing them to feel the full extent of his fear and dread, and feeling that their hope lied with getting word, quick and concise, to Lord Elrond.

 

It was their only option. Their only chance.

 

It seemed impossible that there was a hunting pack so close to the borders.  

 

Then Warg stepped into view.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

Elrond knew this panic was not his own. It was more wild than anything he had ever felt before, more chaotic.

 

It was borrowed. It was a message.

 

A plea.

 

There was only one elf anywhere near Imladris that the trees would serve as a messenger for. And that person was in charge of his son.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

Legolas had already fired his bow before Estel even got a chance to turn back to the Warg, and only saw a huge brown lump splash into the water.

 

He tried to scream, to warn Legolas of another behind him but the elf had once again already shot it before he got the chance.

 

And then there was a burning sensation in his back.

 

And then he was falling.

 

And then he couldn’t breathe.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

Legolas cursed at himself and his slow hands, unable to protect the child and shot two more wargs - the one or two left that he could see - before jumping headfirst into the raging waters below.

 

He aimed away from the waterfall but the churning pressure still dragged him to the bottom.

 

O0o0o0o0

 

Estel felt his leg get scraped against the ground as he was dragged backward; much against his will. Another shape fell into the water.

 

He couldn't tell which way was up.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Legolas allowed himself to be pulled across the bottom, managing to only bump his arm once or twice. Knowing that he would be pulled to the same place the small boy, if only he did not fight it.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Something was pounding on him from above, pushing him farther and father into the earth that was so unforgiving. He couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't see. He couldn’t swim. He couldn’t move.

 

Something grabbed him. Not a Warg, but hands. Determined hands.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

One arm securely around Estel's middle, Legolas felt for the side of the pool and pushed off the ground with his feet, kicking as hard as he could and using the rocks to help literally pull himself and the child to the surface of the water.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

His face broke the surface of the water and be began coughing wildly. Sputtering and gasping, still unable to see anything.

 

“Hold on.” A choked voice told him, taking both of his hands and attaching them to a vine  A vine that had not been there before, tucked behind the waterfall. “Don’t let go.” The voice told him.

 

Legolas. That had to be Legolas.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

He felt the wargs jaws close around his foot and ankle and he desperately hoped that Estel had a good enough hold that he would stay above the surface when he no longer could. “Your Ada will be here soon.”

 

His own father was hundreds of miles away. His own father would not know until days afterward. Weeks, maybe. Depending on the trees.

 

That was all the physical reaction he managed, making sure Estel could hold himself up,  before Legolas was pulled under the surface once more.

 

The crushing waterfall once again dragging him through the currents, but this time with a Warg very much attached to his leg.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Red bloomed in the water around him, and Estel had never been so scared in his life. “Legolas?” He called.

 

“Legolas?” He screamed, desperate.

 

There was no reply.

 

0o0o0o00o0o

 

Blindly he slashed at his leg with one of his two twins knives, the one that hadn’t been roughly pulled off of him and away.

 

He slashed again.

 

He hit something, but the warg still did not let go. He swung again, this time it let go.

 

Red bloomed around him.

 

He didn’t know if that was the wargs blood or his.

 

As long as it wasn’t the child's he didn't mind.

 

He would die to protect this child, without one single regret.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

His grip began to slip on the root, the current pulling him under was too strong and he was too weak to lift himself all the way out of the water and hold himself there.

 

He tried so hard. But he slipped.

 

It was too strong.

 

Estel went back under the surface.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

The tree’s told him that Estel had been pulled back under, and so with one final swish of his blade he moved away from the Warg and left it to be pulled around by the current while he searched for the boy.

 

And also did not stab the boy, either. Hopefully.

 

He tried to reach the surface and take a breath, but just as he reached the top another powerful paw pushed him under.

 

Deep, under.

 

His face scraped across the rough rocks below.

 

More red bloomed.

 

His lung screamed.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

Everything was water. There was no getting away from it. No safety. No hope for him. He was too little, and the water too strong.

 

Something grabbed hold of him again.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Using most of the strength that he had left, Legolas managed to pull both of them back up to the surface one last time. He pulled Estel over to the edge of the pool once more, this time on the far side of the thundering waterfall.

 

Reaching up, Legolas grabbed as high as he could on the rocks, and hoisted Estel up with the other arm, “Reach!”

 

The child did as instructed, his hand caught another root. A stronger root. Legolas kept pushing until Estel’s entire torso was in the loop of the root.

 

Then he gave the tree the command, and the root snapped tight. Keeping Estel firmly in place.

 

His energy and strength almost entirely spent, he didn’t have much left when another massive paw pushed him back under the water.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

He watched Legolas got pulled under by another warg, one of three who was still alive and in the pool with them.

 

Red blossomed again, making it impossible to see anything in the water at all.

 

“Legolas!” He screamed.

 

The elf’s head did not pop back up.

 

“Legolas!”

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

Elrond heard his son screaming. The same as Elladan, Elrohir, and Glorfindel had.

 

The rest of the warriors had been left behind.

 

The four that had rushed ahead didn't care.

 

Their boy was in danger.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Glorfindel reached the edge before anybody else, his bow already drawn and ready. He saw Estel literally tied to the rock wall.

 

The water below churned with water and blood.

 

He didn’t see Legolas.

 

He couldn’t see anything.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

No matter how he tried to reach the surface he was pushed back down.

 

A claw to his legs.

 

His back.

 

His face.

 

Chest.

 

Down.

 

The tree’s screamed in his ears.

 

Down.

 

But Estel was safe.

 

The water pulled him father under.

 

0o0o0o0oo0o0

 

Elrond used all the force stored within his Ring to bring a stop to the waterfall, to stop the turbulence that threatened to swallow his beloved youngest son.

 

And the son of a friend, the one who he loved so dear he might as well he been a son.

 

The heart of the tree’s thudded loudly in his chest. Louder than his heart ever could. Louder than any natural human being could feel.

 

Legolas was dying.

 

Estel was alive.

 

But Legolas das drowning, of this he was certain.

 

O0o0o0o0o0o

 

The tree’s tugged him upwards.

 

Told him which way to go.

 

And he pushed.

 

He really did.

 

He tried.

 

The air barely touched his lips, before another paw pushed him under

 

The waterfall claimed its price.

 

I’m sorry, Ada.  

 

The tree’s told him the child was safe.

 

Good….. That's as good….  The child…..

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

The effort to stop the waterfall was too much for Elrond, and so his twin sons began shooting the Wargs that were still alive in the water.

 

Hoping to not hit their woodland friend.

 

Prince Legolas.

 

Their fourth brother.

 

Estel still wept and called for his friend, securely attached to the rocks.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Glorfindel panicked. And leaped headfirst into the water below, trusting the twins he had trained himself to not land a killing blow upon his skin.

 

Or the princes.

 

If there was even a killing blow to land. If Legolas was still alive.

 

The tree’s screamed within his chest.

 

O0o0o00o0o

 

The tree’s told him that someone had come to find him.

 

To find the child.

 

The trees knew the child was more important.

 

They told him where to aim his last efforts towards instead.

 

He trusted them.

 

With the last of effort and will he had, Legolas pushed away from the bottom.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

All of a sudden, the water was calm. The wargs were dead, and the waterfall stopped.

 

Estel could see where one blond elf dived for another, where Glorfindel grasped him securely and pushed for the top.

 

Red continued to spread around them.

 

Another body joined the pool; one of his brothers.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

Elladan reached his brother, secure that the other creatures were dead.

 

“Estel!”  He called, knowing that was blood he smelled from his little brother's clothes. “Estel!

 

Upon the prince's command, the roots gave way with a wail if despair.

 

He heard Legolas gasp in pain, and Estel fell into his arms.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

Glorfindel felt the water growing calmer around him, the same time he saw Legolas trying his best to float towards him.

 

He swam desperately for the elf he had known since before the prince could even speak.

 

Thankfully, he reached him and began to depreraitly make his way toward the surface.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Elrohir already had one rope tied around a tree and dropped below before his father even woke up from his trance long enough to even register what was happening.

 

Elrond began to pull Elladan and Estel up immediately.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

Legolas’ head lolled to the side and water seeped out of his slack mouth.

 

Glorfindel tied the rope around both of them and hoped for the best.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

The ones tied to the rope arrived at the top around the same time.

 

Elrohir fell towards his brothers, and Elrond fell towards the Prince bleeding out in his forest. 

Feeling how his lungs screamed for air, and the forest screaming fror help the elf the loves too much.

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

The bed was comfortable under his skin.

 

Too comfortable, comfortable enough he knew he was on pain numbing teas.

 

He tried to say ‘Estel’ but frankly was not certain any sound even came out of his mouth.

 

“Safe.” A voice assured him. A voice he knew, he thought. “Thanks to you, he is safe.”

 

The fell asleep before he remembered who the voice belonged to.

 

O0o0o0o0o0o

 

Aragorn gripped Gimli’s arm, hard. Very hard.

 

They were out of Legolas’ earshot, of this the ranger was certain.

 

Still, he bent down to Gimli’s level, and hissed, “The loyalty and love of any elf is not to be taken lightly, especially not the love and loyalty of Legolas. Treat it lightly, and I will live to make sure you regret it.”

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Happy New Year!!!!!!! And thank you!!!!!!

 

Thank you to everyone who reads all of these very weekend. Bigger thank you to everyone who has ever left me a review, even if its something like “Nice”! And the biggest thank you who manage to leave a review on most or everything I post.

 

Thank you all, for every read and like and follow and review that you have. You’re amazing.

Chapter 11: Wild

Chapter Text

“He's grown up completely wild.” 

 

 

Truth be told, Legolas always was wild. He had been since he could walk. Since before that, probably, they just haven't noticed yet. Like some powerful river or thundering waterfall, there was no stopping or changing him, only guiding. 

 

 

Though Galion knew there was no other way Thranduil would ever want his son. 

 

 

But Legolas was wild in the sense his people used the word and not the other Elven realms. Who saw ‘wild’ as packs of rabid animals, mudslides, and the darkness of caves. ‘Wild’ was just another synonym for ‘Bad’ or Dangerous.’ 

 

 

But to him, and his people it was wonder and beauty. Wild was flower fields, howling under the moon, endless laughter, and running beneath the canopy of the trees. Wild the same way the changing of seasons was, or a flock of birds, or a powerful and consuming love. 

 

 

It was free and happy and simple. Wild was good. 

 

 

The group of elves snickered. “What else could you expect? They're all like that.” 

 

 

One of them checked to make sure King Thranduil had not heard them talking, and being satisfied by his distance continued, “I do not know why he and his father would ever willingly descend to their level.” 

 

 

But they had forgotten one crucial factor, and Galion fought a smile as he poured another cup of wine, muttering, “Be nice.” 

 

 

They had forgotten that he was the Woodland King, he was the King of the forest the same he was King over the elves. A title that held him great respect for any who were aware enough to know who he was; tree, shrub, or otherwise. 

 

 

What the elves had forgotten, was that they were sitting by an open window. And just because the trees choose not to speak to them, did not mean the trees did not speak. 

 

 

“Do you think Thranduil would ever allow him to marry one?” 

 

 

Thranduil had never taken people insulting his son, or his people, very well. 

 

 

Thranduil didn't hide his smirk, “Its not me that you should be concerned for.” 

 

 

But then, neither had Legolas. 

 

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last part.” 

 

 

Arwen had followed from where Legolas had abandoned her mid-dance, reaching down she laced her hand with his right one, and held onto his upper arm. 

 

 

Much less a gesture of affection than one of restraint. He let her without even acknowledging it happened.

 

 

Thranduil wondered if she knew Legolas had been trained equally with both hands. 

 

 

“It wasn't for your ears to hear.” 

 

 

“Don't say it in a public place then. Or at least have the courtesy to do it in a room other than the one I am in. At the other end of the room, at the very, very, least.” 

 

 

Arwen tugged on his arm but he did not move an inch, “Come on Legolas, let's go dance. Forget this.” 

 

 

He just kept staring at the table of elves, “Nothing to say now?” 

 

 

Galion could tell they were nervous, very nervous. He could not blame them, Thranduil had raised a very formidable elf even before all if his warrior training with Ferdan. 

 

 

None were confident they would win if this escalated any farther. Glorfindel kept a watchful eyes on the encounter and shifted a bit closer, just in case. 

 

 

Another person joined the small and very quite showdown, and Arwen quickly made room for Avaleina. 

 

 

The one Legolas already knew he was going to marry, the match that Thranduil supported wholeheartedly. One who had never left to live anywhere but the forest, who was not born into a high standing, who they would not view as good enough.

 

 

Like Arwen she entwined her hand with his, but her other came to spread across his chest as she tucked herself perfectly into place. 

 

 

Unlike with Arwen, Legolas glanced over and away from the elves at the table for the first time to look at her face. 

 

 

“Leave them, before they wet themselves with fear. Leave Elrond's halls peaceful.” She was good at soothing Legolas’ temper, as good as his mother had been with Thranduil. “It doesn't matter what they think.”

 

 

Then, in old Silvan they wouldn't understand she added and twirled the tiny vines made into a ring on his finger, “It cannot change us.” 

 

 

The elves at the table glanced between the two wood elves with slight panic and hesitation. Wise enough for perhaps the first time in their lives to keep their mouths shut. 

 

 

She turned and looked each one up and down with disdain, “Next time I suggest you do not utter words you are not willing to repeat. The reason King Thranduil and King Oropher left to join our people and our way of life was because they were tired of having their homes riddled with people like you. I feel sorry for you.” 

 

 

Avaleina tugged in his hand and like sand against a wave and Legolas allowed it. 

 

 

Not even an hour later his entire escort approached their King, Legolas spoke for them, “We're going to go dance with the trees somewhere that is not in the city walls. Want to come?” 

 

 

Somewhere they could breath. Where they could laugh as loud as they wanted and sing happier songs. 

 

 

The invitation was extended to both of them; Galion said “Yes,” and Thranduil stood up from his chair. 

 

 

They were all too wild for a place like this. 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12: Counting

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Thranduil came to stand under one tree, not at all different than the trees around it except for the fact his son was currently hiding in its branches. 

 

 

He waited one second, two seconds, to see if Legolas would attempt to talk to him first, he didn't. “Greenleaf?” 

 

 

One, two, three, four, five. “The tree's already told me that you're there, no point in pretending you are not.” 

 

 

“I asked them not too.” 

 

 

“Well, you're going to have to take that up with them.” They could tell that none of the trees were particularly remorseful,  “Am I coming up, or are you coming down?” 

 

 

“I have no intentions of coming down.” 

 

 

“I didn't think you did.” Thranduil said softly, to nobody at all as he shed some of his layers, a branch nearby offered itself as a form of coat rack. “Ah, thank you.” 

 

 

And then he climbed. Up, up, up, up until finally his son appeared, as at home on his branch as any squirrel or bird would be. Looking thoroughly miserable, but trying commendably not to. 

 

 

Thranduil settled himself next to his son, not yet even at his majority. Not even close to it yet, either, six decades.  “How was your day?” He asked, pleasantly. 

 

 

“It was fine. How was yours?” He watched as a few birds played in a puddle on the ground, 

 

 

“Yes, that tone is very convincing; I'm assuming mine was better than yours.” 

 

 

“I said mine was fine.” 

 

 

“Then what's with vanishing on our dinner with no word and hiding here, alone? You did not even tell Galion.” 

 

 

Legolas didn't say anything, and this time Thranduil waited seven seconds, “Did something happen with Farlen?” 

 

 

“No.” 

 

 

“Avaleina?” 

 

 

“No.” 

 

 

“Did you step on a bee?”

 

 

“No.” 

 

 

“Fall out of a tree?” 

 

 

“No.” 

 

 

“Read a sad book?” 

 

 

“No.”

 

 

“Did Ferdan say something rude or hurtful? Or both?” 

 

 

“No,  to both.” 

 

 

“Tell me if I'm getting closer, at least.” 

 

 

“Ada!” Still, Legolas did not look at him.

 

 

“I've already asked eight questions, but I am happy to keep going. Did you-”

 

 

Finally Legolas turned scalding eyes to his father, “Why?” 

 

 

Thranduil was not deterred by anger, least of all Legolas’ anger. As someone who experienced it often himself he knew that anger was more often than not a shield for something else. 

 

 

Legolas was not angry at him, he was just angry.

 

 

“Because something is bothering you, and I want to help, and I love you.” 

 

 

Legolas turned back to the birds, already faltering in his temper, “Its stupid and ridiculous and it isn't important.” 

 

 

“If it is bothering you this much it is important to  you, and therefor, it is important to me.” 

 

 

“You're going to laugh.” 

 

 

“Never.” 

 

 

“What if I don't pass the test for my warrior training? What if I have to do it again? What if I still fail? That's so humiliating, and I don't want to disappoint you or Ferdan like that.” 

 

 

“That's what you're worried about? You haven't even started your training yet!” 

 

 

“See, I told you this was pointless, and unimportant.” 

 

 

“That is not what I meant. I meant; you do not even have to think about that for at least nine decades. That is a quite some time to learn, and you will. Ferdan has yet to have any warrior fail the test, and there is absolutely no part of me that thinks you could ever be the first.” 

 

 

Thranduil gently bumped Legolas’ arm, he finally looked away from the birds, “That being said, if you do happen to fail for whatever reason at all, I would never be disappointed with you; even if you had to retake it ten times. I would not be disappointed if you decide never to become a warrior, and wanted to be a healer instead. I could not even be disappointed in you if you drank yourself sick, striped naked and declared war on Imladris.” 

 

 

“Regardless of what happens on that day, just know that you will have already made me the proudest elf in all of Arda everyday for the last 150 years. That's 1,800 months, 7,200 weeks, 54,750 days, 1,314,000 hours-” 

 

 

Legolas started to laugh, finally, “Okay, okay, I get it.” 

 

 

“Are you my sure? I can keep going.” 

 

 

“I'm sure.” 

 

 

“Good.” Legolas stomach growled, “Ready for dinner?” 

 

 

“Yes, have you eaten yet?”

 

 

Thranduil and Legolas began to make their way down the tree, “I have not, you see I was supposed to have dinner with someone but they randomly vanished.” 

 

 

“What a pity,” 

 

 

“It is.” 

 

 

“Guess you're stuck with me.” 

 

 

“I'm counting on it.” 

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o 

 

 

 

Notes:

I counted to ten in the chapter, did you notice?

Would love to hear from you!

Chapter 13: Job

Chapter Text

Good morning, little prince.” Galion almost sang as he entered the kings bedroom.

 

 

To his surprise, Legolas was already awake. Usually when he woke up before Galion came gfir him, he would go find his father. 

 

 

But he was just laying there. 

 

 

Without a thought Galion took off his shoes and slid into bed next to the little thing, right where Thranduil usually slept. 

 

 

Legolas attached himself securely to his arm like it was a tree he might fall out of. “How long have you been awake?” 

 

 

“A while.” 

 

 

“Why didn't you come find us?” Legolas shrugged. “We can keep it a secret.” 

 

 

Legolas turned his eyes upwards, “Promise?” 

 

 

“Promise.” 

 

 

“I had a dream about Nana. I didn't want to go find Ada because then he would know what it was, even if I didn't tell him. And then he would be sad again, too.” 

 

 

Galion lifted him do that he was laying across his chest, “Oh my little prince, your heart is too big for your body. It is not your job to worry about your father; that's my job. You don't want to put me out of a job, do you?” 

 

 

“I wouldn't see you anymore.” He sounded heartbroken at the thought, and so Galion kissed his head. 

 

 

“Oh no, you are not getting away from me that easily. I will always be there to bug you.” To prove his point he wormed one of his fingers against a particularly ticklish spot. 

 

 

Legolas squirmed with a giggle. 

 

 

“Well, what is my job then?” 

 

 

“Your job, first and foremost is to be happy, and that means telling us when you are not happy. Can you do that?” 

 

 

Legolas thought about it. “I can do that.” 

 

 

“Good.”

 

 

Legolas thought about it again, “When I get older, will I have lots of jobs like Ada?” 

 

 

“You're going to have so many of them you're not even going to know what to do.” 

 

 

“Do you think I will be good at them?” 

 

 

“I think you will be perfect at them.” Legolas nodded, and drew quite again. “Do you want to go and get a hug from Ada now?” 

 

 

This time, he didn't have to think about it, “Yes please.” 

 

 

Galion got back out of the bed, keeping Legolas in his arms and made for the door. Leaving his shoes where they were on the rug, “Good. Because giving you hugs and snuggles is one of your Ada's favorite jobs.” 

 

 

“What's his favorite?” 

 

 

“Just bring your Ada.” 

 

 

Chapter 14: Ambush

Chapter Text

Legolas stopped, and took a step back, “Ada..”

 

His father was behind him in an instant, sword drawn, “I know. I feel it.”

 

The creak of bows being drown was behind him.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

“Faster, please, Asfaloth.” Somehow, thankfully his friend managed to go faster, scrambling up the side of the mountain.

 

For creatures that were supposed to have an infinate amount of time, Glorfindel often felt like he was constantly running out of it.

 

He glanced back to ensure the rest of his host was with him. They were.

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

The goblin’s grinned as they crawled from their caves like ants from their hole. Viscious grins dribbed and disformed hands held crude weapons or chains attached to trolls.

 

Legolas found an arrow in his hand before he could think, aimed for a troll eye. Waiting for the command to fire.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

“Oh Valar, help us.” Elladan said, face scrunching up at the smell wafting from above and the morning sunrise in his eye, “That cannot be good.”

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

Arrow after arrow he shot until he had no more, and arrow after arrow another one of the elves that had come with him left for the halls.

 

A troll screamed with rage and came charging forward. He pulled his knives.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

Rivers of blood leaked from far above the mountain pass. Both red and black.

 

The horses tried not to step in it but did not always have a choice.

 

0o0o0o0o

He slipped in blood, and the rocks rolled beneath his feet.

 

He fell.

 

He was going to die. The troll swung its axe.

 

0o0o0o0

 

It has been long years since he had last seen such carnegie, and the first time the twins ever had.

 

Next to him Elrond yelled, desperate and pleading, “Legolas? Thranduil?”

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

“Ada! No!”

 

The troll fell.

 

So did the king.

 

0o0o0o0

 

No answer came, the only sight was the dead.

 

0o0o0o

 

He tried desperately to fight his way to his father, but the goblins seemed to be multiplying the more he killed.

 

Something struck his head from behind.

 

He didn’t feel his face crash into the rocks as he fell into them.

 

0o0o0o

 

Elladan and Elrohir both dropped from their horses and began scrambling up some of the bigger boulders, searching around for any clues to where survivors might be.

 

Would hopefully be.

 

0o0o0o

 

He knew when the tree’s wanted him to wake. He also knew when the tree’ thought something was urgent. And this, apparently, was urgent.

 

Regardless of the screaming agony in his head, Legolas opened his eyes.

 

Just in time to see a pair creeping slowly towards him in the night. Feeling the edges or a rock in his hand he grabbed it securely and prepared to strike.

 

0o0o0o

 

“Over here!” Elladan called, pointing the way where a small cloud of dust had been kicked up, “It has to be!”

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Seven strikes. It took seven strikes to take its life.

 

He found his knife, and then he searched for anybody that might still be alive.

 

0o0o0o

 

There was the sound of a sword slicing flesh, and Asfaloth charged for it. Glorfindel easily shot three of the goblins, and each twin got the other two.

 

0o0o0o

 

He bound the wound tightly, grabbed his sword from the ground next to him in time to deflect another blow and spill the guts of the goblin scout attempting to kill him.

 

He killed two others before they could come near those in his party that had survived the ambush.

 

The last got a slice onto his arm, and then it lost its head.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Legolas almost looked as if he had been sentenced to death by a thousand scratches. He looked pale, hallow, and exhausted. A wound oozed from his forehead, and his hair at the back was equally red.  

 

0o0o0o

 

Every hour or so it seemed more scouts were sent to check on the state of the ambush. To see if the elves had come through the pass.

 

Every hour it became harder to protect the others and himself. Every hour he wished more and more desperate for help.

 

Another head fell to the ground.

 

Every hour he grew more worried none of them would survive the night.

 

0o0o0o

 

“Oh good.” He said, sounding entirely as dazed as he looked. Glorfindel threw himself off of Asfaloth and towards the prince.

 

Legolas turned mechanically towards a small barricade of stones,  “Please help.”

 

0o0o0o

 

The sun could not come up fast enough. He was too tired. His father was bleeding too much. Everything was happening too much.

 

0o0o0o

 

Elrond fell to the ground next to Thranduil and immediately began his work on the wounds while Elladan, and Elrohir began their inspection of some of the other incredibly injured elves secured away by their prince.

 

There were not many, not compared to how many Glorfindel knew would have been sent to escort their King.

 

0o0o0o

 

His arms felt like lead, heavier with every swing. There were hoofbeats in the distance.

 

The five goblins that had been scrambling across the earth towards him dropped dead. Somehow he managed to turn towards the noise, trying not to visibly sway.

 

It took him a moment to recognize it as Glorfindel, “Oh good.”

 

0o0o0o

Thranduil opened his eyes, the fear in his heart still as ice cold as when he saw the troll swinging for Legolas with such deadly promises.

 

He made to move, to search, to do something, anything. Anything to help Legolas.

 

His son. His greenleaf.

 

“Peace, Thranduil, Peace. He is safe.” Glorfindel appeared out of nowhere, leaning over him, “In the bed across from yours, asleep. Healing.”

 

He tore his eyes away and moved his head to see his son, ignoring the pains from doing so. Cuts, scratches, and a few bites were visible already. Seeing him was not good enough.

 

He made to move again, to get up, to go to his son. Hold him. Touch him, just in case.

 

“Stop! Stop!” Glorfindel pushed him back onto the bed, “You will tear your stitches. Stop.”

 

He would not stop.

 

“I will bring him to you.”

 

He stopped fighting and managed to move himself away from the center of the bed. Watching with scrutiny as Glorfindel carefully lifted Legolas’ frail looking form from his own bed and carried him over to his fathers and laid him down gently

 

Thranduil managed to lift one of his hadns to cup his little leafs face as he pressed his forehead lightly against Legolas’ injured one; telling his son in every way he could that he had not left.

 

He was not alone. He would never be alone.

 

0o0o0o

Chapter 15: Name

Chapter Text

Thranduil had always known that the Kingdom of Greenwood adored his son. That had always been obvious, from the very moment he entered the world.

 

It started when he was a little elfling, and he wanted to say Hi to everybody he saw and be their friend. Especially if they had fun stories to tell him.

 

Once he began walking, it became even more obvious. If possible.

 

Kitchen staff used to sneak him treats, stable hands would let him help feed and brush their elks, guards used to let him wander the paths with them with a wooden sword. Sometimes with one holding each hand and swinging him merrily between them.

 

Librarians used to read to him whenever he wanted, whatever he wanted. Gardeners let him help plant seeds in the garden, and look after sick plants. The healers would let him crush up herbs and as long as he promised to be careful.

 

Galion used to carry him around on his shoulders while he carried out his errands, and take him for ‘camping trips’ in the forest iust behind their home. Ferdan taught him to swim, and to safely climb huge cliffs and mountains, since he insisted on doing it anyways.

 

Performers spent hours teaching him all of the old dances of his mother's people, and as many songs as he wanted or could remember.

 

When Thranduil would sit on his throne for his people to come and tell him their grievances and troubles, Legolas would come and sit on his lap and insist that Thranduil whisper his response into Legolas' ear so that he could be the one to tell them himself.

 

Nearly every single elf that saw the little prince would say hello to him, or give him a hug, or at the very least an affectionate pat on the head. Even the most grumpy of councillors would wear the flower crowns the little prince had made for them.

 

Thranduil never had to worry about his son, even if he did have an awful habit of wandering away with incredible speed and stealth, because literally every elf that saw him would assist him if he needed it. Or return him to his father, or Galion, if it started getting late.

 

And then Legolas grew up, and all of Greenwood watched with pride and love as he grew into an even greater version of himself. As he remembered every single one of their names, families, and troubles.

 

They laughed and rolled their eyes when they watched him be up to mischief, leaping waterfalls and visited settlements around them.

 

“Does your father know where you are, Legolas?”

 

“A bit late to be returning home, isn't it?”

 

“That better not be a bottle of wine behind your back.”

 

They watched as he trained day and night to help defend them, as he went against every natural instinct he had to not cause harm. As he became swift and silent as Mandos himself. As

led their own children into battle after battle and then back to safety again.

 

As he helped to lift their spirits, and make his father laugh. As he continued to glow like a beautiful star in their dim and darkness filled forest.

 

Thranduil knew that they had all felt his heartbreak when Legolas did not return to them from the council of Elrond, especially when they figured out exactly where their beloved Prince was headed with all haste.

 

And when the war ended, and they found out that against all odds, somehow, the eternal Greenleaf of their kingdom had survived they loved him all the more.

 

Thranduil had been stunned into silence, and also to tears when he found out what his people's suggestion for the new name was their newly reclaimed, and beautiful home.

 

Eryn Lasgalen: Wood of Greenleaves

Chapter 16: Mountain

Notes:

Some were asking for a cute little mischevious Legolas and the Twins chapter. Here you are!

Chapter Text

Elrohir looked over the edge of the small cliff to the snow-covered mountain below them, “I don't know Legolas, I don’t think its a good idea.”

 

Elladan crossed his arms, “I know its not a good idea. If it does not go well, you’re certainly going to die.”

 

Legolas looked up from his own survey of the mountain to the twins with a grin, reaching behind he began to braid more of his hair away, “Probably. But if it does go well, it's going to be so much fun.”

 

“Are those really what you plan to make your last words?” Elladan asked with a scowl.

 

“I’m fine with them.” Legolas retreated away from the edge again and back to the sturdy looking piece of bark that had come from a tree they needed to cut down for firewood last night for another careful inspection.

 

Elrohir gave his brother an exasperated look, and then shove when he realized that seemed to sum up the full extent of interference Elladan planned to run between Legolas and this foolish idea. “If the princeling wants to die, let him die I say. I tried to convince him otherwise, and he didn’t listen.”

 

‘“Not going to die.” Legolas added pleasantly as he looked back over the edge of the ledge.

 

Elrohir tried to pry the wood form his hands but Legolas moved it away too quickly, “Yes. You will. If the mountain does not kill you, then Nana will when she hears about this. And if somehow you survive that, then Ada is going to kill you for making him explain all of his to your Ada.”

 

Legolas still seemed thoroughly un-discouraged, “Oh please, stop being so dramatic. Just don't tell Lady Celebrian and then all of that will be avoided. I got sent here because I found and fought cave trolls, remember? This is not nearly as bad as that.”

 

“We already know that you’re an idiot, you don't need to keep giving us evidence,” Elladan said.

 

Legolas frowned at him briefly, “Well we didn’t know there was a cave troll in the cave when we went in, obviously. Honestly, I’m not sure which of us was more surprised. Us or the trolls. Besides, I do this at home but on the river. How different could it be?”

 

Elladan looked to his twin, appalled, “Is he seriously asking us how different it could be to stand on a piece of bark going down a mountain while avoiding tree’s, rocks, possibly Ors and other deadly things than balancing on water?”

 

“Yes.” Elrohir answered, “Eru help us all.”

 

Legolas rolled his eyes, “If Arwen were here she would try it with me.”

 

“Ah!” Both brothers shouted at the same time, “No! She would not! We would not let her!” Elladan continued, “Be the death of yourself if you must but you will not be taking our sister with you.”

 

“Not going to die.” Legolas reminded them, “Last chance if you want to come. You don't even have to stand on it, you can sit. I won't even mock you for it.”

 

“No,” Elladan answered firmly for both of them.

 

“Suit yourselves.” And then before Elrohir could manage to get ahold of him, Legolas was gone, his wild laughter drifting back up to them for some time as they watched him sled down the mountain with ease.

 

Elrohir glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. It did look fun.

 

“No.” Elladan growled.

 

Elrohir glanced at the other, similar pieces of bark nearby.

 

“No.” Elladan said again, this time more of a snarl than anything.

 

They could still hear Legolas laughing.

 

“He didn’t die.”  

 

“Doesn't mean you wont.”

 

Elrohir took a small step sideways, toward the pile of wood. “I mean, I probably won't.”

 

“Elrohir!”

 

“What!”

 

“Are you really doing this? Right now? Really?”

 

He took another step sideways, “I was thinking about it.”

 

“You’re as bad as the elfling.”

 

Reaching down he grabbed a piece of bark, and then a second and held the other to his brother, “So you’re coming, then?”

Elladan didn’t say anything for a few moments, and the sighed and dropped his arms. “Well, I’m not letting you die alone. We came into this world together, we leave it together.”

 

It had been many long years since Elrohir had thought of their promise to one another. They had both decided at a young age that they would not survive the loss of the other to mortality, they didn't understand how their father managed it. Though, they did not often try to think of it in the first place.

 

“Let's go then.”

 

“Nana’s going to kill us.”

 

With matching grins the dropped off the ledge, landing firmly and safely on the bark as it began to speed down the hill. They heard a great cheer from the bottom as Legolas caught sight of them.

 

It was fun.

 

0o0o0o0o

 

“Of all the stupid, irresponsible, idiotic, childish things you’ve done. This by far is one of the worst. Your father sent you here to force you out of trouble. Not sliding headlong down a mountain towards it! If something had happened, what was your plan? Mhmm? Hope you didn’t die in the time it took Elladan and Elrohir to come and get help? Hope the trees would help you? Were you even thinking at all, Legolas? Honestly. The stupidity you manage sometimes baffles me.”

 

The three of them stood side by side, head hung in shame as Celebrian continued her already-several-minutes-long tirade, while Glorfindel and Elrond stood by looking mildly impressed.

 

“And you two! What excuses do you have? You are older than him! You are supposed to be responsible! I know Elrond and I taught you better than that!”  

 

Subtly so that none of the older elves could see, the three of them bumped their hands together in a futile attempt at their handshake. They still yet did not know how their guardians had found out about what they did before they had even arrived back at the valley, but it didn't stop them from taking Arwen back several days later to do it again.

Chapter 17: Apologize

Chapter Text

Thranduil knocked on the door, already knowing full well that even though it had hardly ever been locked that it would be now, “Legolas?”

 

No answer.

 

He briefly rested his head against the unyielding wood in defeat, “I came to talk to you,” He sighed, “I came to apologize.”

 

Still nothing

 

“I know you’re angry with me, and I know that I’m probably the last person you want to talk to right now.”

 

Nothing.

 

“I’m going to wait outside your door until you’re ready. I'm patient.” He could almost hear his sons laughter and sarcastic remark in his head, “For you, for you I’m patient.”

 

With another sigh the great Elvenking sat on the ground in the corridor outside of his son's room, legs stretched out in front of him and back against the wall.

 

The few elves who scuttled past tried valiantly to not gawk at their king sitting amongst the dirt and dust bunnies, however, he didn’t particularly care who saw him here. That didn’t matter now, what mattered was getting his son to speak to him again.

 

He was prepared to sit here all night if need be. He was prepared to sit here for an entire week if that's what it took. Thankfully for him, his son was far less likely to hold grudges against wrongdoings than he himself was.

 

It was only about an hour before the door opened and Legolas sat next to his father in the hallway silently.

 

Thranduil stared at his hands folded on his legs in shame rather than look over at his son, “I’m sorry, I am truly and deeply sorry.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I didn't … I couldn’t .. I just..”

 

Legolas rested his hand on his father's folded ones, “I know, Ada”

 

Thranduil continued to stare down at his hands now covered by a smaller one, guilt rising into his throat at the sight while some of the words he had screamed earlier rang in his ears, “You scared me so badly today my little leaf, I do not know the last time I was so worried-”

 

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn't mean to.”

 

“And I didn’t mean to lose my temper with you.”

 

“You never do.”

 

The pair lapsed into silence as a few more elves scuttled by, still trying their best not to look at their royals sitting on the ground. For the first time since Legolas had left his room Thranduil looked up at him, looking heartbroken and slightly devastated “Can you forgive me?”

 

Legolas smiled, that trademark smile that never failed to raise his father's heart and spirit, “Oh Ada, I forgave you before I even opened the door.”

 

As if to prove his words, Legolas leaned his head against his father's shoulder, ignoring the sniff of emotion above him, “How did I get so lucky to have a son such as you?”

 

“You must have given Eru a very good bribe.”

 

“Must have.”

Chapter 18: Sneak

Chapter Text

Legolas creeped into the living room as slowly and gently as he could, pausing in the doorway to make sure there were no voices drifting from his father's room. 

 

 

Galion and Lord Ferdan had departed an hour and a half ago, and as far as Legolas could tell, his father had fallen asleep. 

 

 

Hopefully he stayed that way. 

 

 

He stepped lightly across the room and to the window, and then laid on his stomach to peer under the doorway looking for any hint of shadows or movement of any kind. 

 

 

Nothing. 

 

 

He got back to his feet, very carefully and very slowly easing the lock on the window open. Pausing as soon as he was done to listen. 

 

 

Nothing. 

 

 

He pushed one side of it open, ensuring the hinges wouldn't squeak as it swung open. He glanced back to his father's bedroom door and then eased himself into the edge. 

 

 

The trees outside laughed at him, but didn't wake his father. Which was all that really mattered. 

 

 

Avaleina and Farlen waited for him at the bottom of the tree, cheering very softly as he swing himself out of the window and into the branches, leaning back only to close the window behind him. 

 

 

Doubtlessly the rest of their friends were performing their own feats of stealth and danger. He scrambled down the tree and landed softly in the grass. 

 

 

With wide grins they raced off into the night to find the rest of their illegally free companions. 

 

 

0o0oo0o0

 

 

Legolas awoke the next day to the sounds of his father bustling about in his own bedroom, earlier than usual. 

 

 

His sneaking back in seemed to have gone as successfully as the sneaking out had, and so he allowed the curiosity to get the best of him and went to investigate. 

 

 

His father's bedroom door was open and so Legolas just walked inside, “You're up early.” 

 

 

Thranduil paused in brushing out his hair and redirected his gaze in the mirror so that he could see his son standing in the doorway, “The trees woke me.” 

 

 

It was something bad, then. It had to be. “Oh.”

 

 

Thranduil put the comb down and turned in the chair he sat on, giving Legolas a soft look. “But that is no concern of yours, my leaf. Nobody has died, and in the end, everything will mend.” 

 

 

“It will?” 

 

 

“I will make it be so.” Thranduil stood up and placed his crown on his head, one of the last things he did before leaving. He wore his simple silver circlet instead of the usual one. 

 

 

He was leaving home to deal with it whatever was happening, then. It was bad enough or urgent enough to draw him out. 

 

Legolas knew better than to ask for specifics, his father never gave him any until after everything was dealt with. Galion claimed that with time that would change, when he was older. Legolas wasn't convinced. 

 

 

Legolas stepped out of the doorway to allow his father to pass, “Be safe, please.” 

 

 

“I will. Always.” Thranduil kissed his forehead, “It's early, go back to bed and sleep.” He moved away, pulling on his boots with ease, “After all, you were up very late last night.” 

 

 

Legolas groaned loudly while his father laughed wickedly, “I thought I was sneaky.” 

 

 

“You were, just not quite sneaky enough.” He opened the door leading to the hallway, calling back over his shoulder, “I love you, even though you never listen to me and I'm going to tell Ferdan what you were all up to last night so training might kill you!” 

 

 

“Love you!” Legolas shouted before the door closed, mumbling to the empty room after it did, “Even though you're betraying me and offering me up to a starving wolf slathered with spices.” 

 

 

And then he went back to bed. 

 

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

 

Sorry it's a day late, but here you are! Hope you like it! 

 

 

Chapter 19: Dying

Chapter Text

I'm dying. I've never died before, but I'm certain this is how it feels. The pain is blinding and yet I hardly notice it, maybe that's how I know I'm dying. Because I should be screaming or crying or at the very least trying to stop the blood from pouring out of me.

 

But I see no reason to scream or cry or try and keep my blood on the inside. And only an elf who knows the halls are coming would not see a reason to scream or to cry.

 

Somebody's trying to do it all for me, especially the 'keeping the blood inside of me part'. He is desperate, terrified, but determined.

 

I can hear the screaming from those of my patrol left alive, or perhaps from the dying like me who have yet to accept it. I force a numb hand to grab the front of Legolas shirt, jerking him away from my wound with more strength than I thought I had left, “Go!”

 

They need to leave. Before they are all laying in the leaves beside me, watering our forest with their own lifeblood. They need to leave, and he needs to lead them.

 

“No, no I can't. I'm not leaving you here.”

 

His hands shake like earthquakes, he is scared for me. He is scared for himself, but he still manages to fire off a few arrows with the accuracy I could never achieve to save the lives of his friends.

 

“It's okay, Greenleaf.” His eyes well at the use of his nickname, the one only those who helped to raise him use. The ones who have known his father long before he was born. The ones who love him as much as their hearts would allow.

 

“No, please. No.”

 

It hurts my heart more than you know, son of my dearest friend to leave you. You who has already lost so much, you who is going to blame yourself for this. I hope your father is able to talk sense into you about that, sooner rather than later.

 

I promised your father that I would protect you, and I have done my best. I have tried to teach you right from wrong, courage from stupidity, and optimism from delusions. I have tried to help teach you the skills, wisdom and knowledge that you need to lead our people. I have tried to teach you that love is not something to be feared, but now I think I might be teaching the opposite.   

The hand that tried to shove you away comes to rest on the side of your face, wiping away a few tears, “It's okay.”

 

I don't know how many times I've promised you that. I know you’ll hear it again in a few hours when your father finds wherever you are going to hide away.

 

“You have to lead them home. There are others injured that have a chance. But only if you can get them to a healer.”

 

You looks around yourself, hand gripping mine tightly. Those still standing have managed to kill the bulk of the attacking force that has done this to us. But more will come. You know they will, your only hope is to outrun them to safer ground.

 

“Legolas you have to go.”

 

“I can't.”

 

“You can and you will.”  I never wanted to break your heart like this, I'm sorry. “Our Lady is here, she will protect me. She will take me to the halls before more arrive, I'll be okay. I'll see you again soon.”

 

"I don't want to do this without you."  

 

“Go,” I bring the hand that holds mine to my lips and press a  kiss, “I will tell your Nana what an amazing elf you have grown to be, she’ll be glowing with pride brighter than any star.”

 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

 

“I love you.” and then I shove you away again, “Go!”

 

And this time, you listen to me. This time you leave me.

 

"Good luck, Greenleaf."  

 

And this time I die.

Chapter 20: Godfather

Notes:

ZoeMontrose wanted some Thranduil and Galion banter.

Chapter Text

Galion knocked on the door, running the list through in his head while he waited for the call to enter. The King was reading one thing or another but Galion started talking without waiting for him to look up, “All the messages have been delivered, I have three replies for you, I crumpled two others because they were ridiculous, Lord Ferdan says and I quote, ‘Tell him he’s being an idiot,’ and lastly Legolas is playing in the garden and making friends with what I presume is a squirrel but has asked that you come and fetch him for dinner ”

 

Thranduil looked up at him looking a bit amused, “Were you a practicing that?”

 

“A bit, yes.”

 

“Its was beautiful.”

 

“Thank you. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

 

“Actually I wanted to talk to you about something-” Thranduil paused, “Why are you looking at me like I just told you I’m going to light you on fire.”

 

“Because I know that tone of voice, I’ve heard you use that tone of voice on other people and every single time have been glad it wasn’t for me.”

 

“Stop being so dramatic.”

 

“Unlikely but I’ll try.”

 

“Can you sit down please,” Thranduil gestured to a chair across from his desk,  “And stop hovering like a frightened deer.”

 

“I am a frightened deer.”

 

“Then hover in fear in a chair.”

 

With incredible flourish, Galion leapt into the appointed chair, sitting cross-legged, “Has anybody ever told you that you are very demanding?”

 

“You, every day.”

 

“Well, I’m not wrong.”

 

“Never said you were.” Thranduil sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together while Galion almost visibly braced himself, “As you know everyone on the council and several others people have been demanding for some time that I choose somebody to entrust Legolas to in case something happens to me.”

 

“You’ve chosen someone?”

 

“I’ve chosen you if you’ll accept the offer.”

 

Galion stared at his king, “Me?”

 

“You.”

 

He went perfectly still, and Thranduil just waited for him to decide on something to say, “If this is what Lord Ferdan called you an idiot about then I think I'm inclined to agree.”

 

“Actually we are arguing about a game of chess that he insists he didn’t lose, why shouldn't I choose you?”

 

“Have you hit your head? He’s a prince! How am is supposed to raise a prince to be a king, I know nothing about any of that! I can carry letters, take messages, somehow keep you alive--”

 

“You will not raise him to be a prince or a king, you will raise him to be happy.”

 

Galion crossed his arms and went still again, a habit of his whenever he was trying to not be too disrespectful. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. It's part of the reason Thranduil had chosen him, if there was anything he had always valued it was speaking your mind. “Do you not think that Lord Ferdan would be better suited?”

 

Thranduil copied him and crossed his arms, “No.”

 

“Would you stop being so smug and at least explain yourself?”

 

“This way is more fun.”

 

“Thranduil, I swear, I will get up out of this chair and never come back.”

 

“No, you won’t.”

 

“You’re right I won't, but I’ll spit in your food.”

 

“I assumed you did that anyway.” But then the king took pity on him, much to Galion’s relief, “If he cannot have me, who does he call for? Who takes him swimming? Who spends their free evenings reading with him? You love him. If it not I who gets to raise him I want it to be someone who I think cares for him as much as I.”

 

Galion remained silent and so Thranduil kept talking, “When others were making suggests to me for who to pick they only considered those who could shape in him into a king, but I will not allow for him to be shaped in any way not his own. You will raise him happy, you will fully encourage him be himself. Whoever that might be, you will love him for who he is in the moment and not who he could become.”

 

Thranduil cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms, “I’m not asking you to do anything more than you are doing already.”

 

Galion swallowed hard, it had never been a question if he loved Legolas or not. He had fallen in love with him thoroughly and completely the moment he had set eyes on the little prince.

 

But to know that Thranduil fully trusted him to raise the most precious and important thing that would ever exist, as far as Thranduil was concerned was nearly breathtaking. Judging by the return of the smug expression, he knew that.  “Fine. I’ll do it, but you’re still an idiot.”

Chapter 21: Listening

Chapter Text

 

The library was hot and stuffy, “And so, Elu Thingol banned their language.”

 

The sun is so bright and warm today, after so many days of rain.

 

Yes! Yes! Warm and light on our leaves.

 

So nice! If only we could stretch higher!

 

“They listened in public but not in private,” The blue sky glowed through the window to the left of the board.

 

The creatures are about once more to tickle our roots and branches.

 

But our favorite is missing!

 

Yes! Yes! Come and play little prince! Come and play!

 

We will show you all kinds of amazing things!

 

And you will meet new friends!

 

Yes! Yes! New friends! Come and find them with us, little prince!

 

“Legolas!”

 

He jumped, eyes wide and obviously startled. “Wh-What?”

 

He stood purposefully in front of the window, “Were you listening to me?”

 

“They listened in public and not private.”

 

Arms crossed, displeased, “That was six minutes ago.”

 

Eyes downcast, “Oh.”

 

“I will never understand why your mind is incapable of staying within your own head!”

 

“I'm sorry, Belroha.”

 

“Stop apologizing if you don't intend to change your behavior.”

 

Little hands fidgeted, uncomfortable, “I don't mean to do it! I promise! I don't even usually notice until people are yelling at me....”

 

We are sorry little prince.

 

It is our fault.

 

Very sorry! So sorry!

 

“Even now!”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Go, away with you. I'm done dealing with this foolishness for today, and I will speak with your father later tonight.”

 

Shoulders slumped, “Yes, Sir.”

 

Come outside!

 

Yes! Yes! Come!

 

We will ease your sorrows! Come, come little prince!

 

Come and play!

 

9o9o9o9o9o9o9o9o

 

Legolas didn't look up as his father showed Belroha out of their private chambers, or when he came to sit in the chair across from him.

 

For a while there was nothing to break the oppressive silence, “I'm sorry.”

 

“Yes, you've said that.”

 

“I don't know what else to say.”

 

The stars are beautiful tonight, so clear and bright!

 

It is a good night for dancing and song. Good times for good cheer!

 

Yes! Yes!

 

“Legolas.” At least his father's voice wasn't harsh like his teachers was.

 

Out of instinct he raised his eyes to his father's, briefly forgetting his shame, “Yes?”

 

“Did you hear my question?”

 

Legolas dropped his eyes, and shook his head, “I'm sorry.”

 

“How about an explanation instead of so many apologies.”

 

So many fireflies out tonight. They tickle our leaves and light the skies!

 

How pretty! Little stars, dancing among our leaves!

 

“Eyes, please, while you think.”

 

He did as instructed and raised his eyes to meet his father's, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought it out very carefully. He had never attempted to put it into words before.

 

The voices said something but he did not register the words, for once, too focused on his father's eyes, “Sometimes, it's hard to hear the words on the  outside because the trees are too loud on the inside.”

 

“And that's why you can't pay attention in your lessons? Or, most other times.”

 

Legolas nodded shamefully, “I try my best to pay attention, Ada, I promise. But I have to sit there for so long and do nothing but listen and the voices seem to get louder and louder the longer I sit.”

 

He had been told his attention span was much too short, but this was his first year of lessons and it was harder than he thought it would be.

 

“Why didn't you say something, little sunshine?”

 

“I don't know. I didn't know it was wrong. And then when I did know, I thought you would keep them out of my head forever and I like them. They're my friends. They keep me from being alone. I don't like to be alone.”

 

“Nobody likes to be alone,” Legolas eyes darted to the window as he caught half a sentence from the trees, his father tapped his pointer finger next to his eyes and Legolas returned his gaze, “And while hearing the trees so well is not wrong, it is also not good if it's making it hard to pay attention to anything else.”

 

“I'm sorry, Ada.”

 

“Do not apologize. There is no sense apologizing for things you cannot control nor change. Yet.”

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

His father folded his hands together on his lap, “What do you think might be a good way to solve this problem?”

 

He began to twirl the tips of his hair, a nervous habit, “I - I don't know. I don't know what could make this better.” Disappointed in himself and assuming his father felt the same, Legolas dropped his eyes to his lap once more.

 

He heard his father stand up, but didn't raise his eyes from his lap. Still feeling like he ought to be in trouble. Knowing that he should be in trouble. It was rude not to listen to your elders, even if what they were saying during the lesson was boring.

 

Legolas jumped when he realized his father had come to kneel in front of him, swallowing both of his smaller hands between his own, much larger ones, “And what do we do when we don't know what to do?”

 

Legolas thought about it, his face all scrunched up, “We ask for help?”

 

“Yes, sweet one. We ask for help.”

 

“Who can we ask?”

 

“Well, for starters Galion. And if he does not know, we have an entire kingdom out there who would love nothing more than to help their little prince. And in the meantime, how about we postpone your lessons?”

 

“Ada, no!” His father raised an eyebrow at him and Legolas continued in a more acceptable inside tone, “I like learning. I want to learn. I'm good and smart, I promise.”

 

“This is not about me thinking you are not good or smart. We both know that you are. A compromise, then. You and I will work on your letters and reading after dinner every other day.”

 

That seemed like it would be alright, Legolas thought. He would still get to learn and spend time with his father; and he would also get the benefit of his father's patience and wouldn't get yelled at.

 

“Agreeable?” His father asked after giving him a while to think about it, something Legolas always appreciated about his father. He was never rushed, in thinking, speaking, or even walking. One of his most comforting qualities. “

 

Legolas nodded a little, and said in a small voice, “Yes. That's agreeable.”

 

His father let go of his hands and began to tickle him on his side's, “I'm sorry, little leaf, I didn't hear you. Did you say yes?”

 

Legolas squirmed at the assault and fought not to further react and swallow his laugh as he said, “Yes, Ada.”

 

The fingers tickled faster, getting all of his worse spots, “I'm sorry I didn't hear you, what was that?”

 

Soon he had no option but burst out in laughter as the tickling continued, squirming like a worm on a hook, “Yes, Ada! YES!”

Chapter 22: Fire

Summary:

Refers to Chapter 4 : Hide

In case you wanted to re-read that one before this.

Chapter Text

The moment Legolas saw into the hall of fire he stopped dead in his tracks, tugging back on his father's hand with all the might that he had. Expecting this reaction Thranduil had already come to a stop before Legolas even had, and he looked down into frightened blue eyes. 

 

 

He didn't so much as even glance inside the hall to see who might be watching when he knelt down in front of his son and took his other hand, “We don’t have to go inside.” 

 

 

Legolas shifted his eyes from his father's face and back into the hall but then quickly to his father once more. Thranduil pulled him a little bit closer, “The weather is nice we could go play outside, or I’m sure Elrond or Erestor could find us a wonderful book to read, Celebrian also offered for you to come help her make some pies.” 

 

 

The elfling looked back inside the hall with a small cringe, “But they tell stories in there. Ones I haven't heard yet before.” 

 

 

“Tell you what, how about we go sit near the back as far away from the fires as we can?” 

 

 

Legolas pressed his lips onto a thin line like he did whenever he was thinking hard about something, “Can I sit on your lap, please?” 

 

 

“Absolutely.” The young elfling looked back into the room and back to his father once more with a deep breath, “Are we ready?” The was the slightest of nods and then Thranduil easily tossed his son into the air and caught him, grinning at the shriek of laughter. 

 

 

Nestling the little prince in his arms, Thranduil covered him with his robe so he wouldn’t be able to feel the heat from any of the fires as they crossed the room. Legolas hid his face in his father's shoulder, only surfacing once he had sat down and assured the elfling there were no fires close to him. 

 

 

Together the two of them listened to the stories for a few hours, Legolas leaning against his father's chest while he very gently played with the elflings in an effort to keep him calm and lull him into sleep. Occasionally at some of the scarier parts, Thranduil would gently tickle the back of his neck or blow a raspberry on his cheek to distract him. 

 

 

Many of the residents of Imladris continued to sneak glances at the two of them, for this was the first visit Legolas had ever made to the valley and after a week of being here the elfling had finally entered the halls of fire. 

 

 

As the night began to wind down, and Thranduil was about to prepare to take his son to bed Glorfindel approached them from where he had been sitting with Elrond and his family, “Is it alright if I join you?” 

 

 

Thranduil had always been fond of the balrog slayer, “By all means.” 

 

 

Glorfindel nestled himself in one of the plush chairs nearby, his attention on the tiny elfling, “Would it be alright with you if we have a little talk, Legolas?” 

 

 

Uncertain eyes looked up to his father who nodded in encouragement, like his father Legolas quite enjoyed the Balrog slayers company. Especially because he had taken him for many rides through the forest around the valley and spent many sunny afternoons playing in the gardens with him while his father was busy with Lord Elrond, so Legolas nodded his head. 

 

 

“Fire is really scary, isn't it?” 

 

 

Out of instinct alone, the elfling shifted how he was sitting to hide the obvious burn scars on his feet, and gave another nod followed by the world's softest, “Yes.” 

 

 

“And sometimes it really hurts, doesn’t it?” 

 

 

Legolas gave another small nod, nestling farther into his father's arms as the king adjusted his grip so that an arm was across the elflings shoulders and chest, “Yes.” 

 

 

“I’m scared of fire too.” Legolas didn’t look convinced, “No really, I am. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Ada as good as yours to protect me from them.” 

 

 

Thranduil pressed a kiss to his sons head, reliving his own memories of that terrible night as his son responded, “Is it from when you fell with the Balrog?”  

 

 

“Yes, it is. I don't think I will ever forget how scared I was.” 

 

 

Legolas dropped his gaze down to where he idly played with a corner of his father's robes, “Me either.”     

 

 

The king took a deep and steadying breath, Glorfindel briefly glanced into his eyes to see if Thranduil wanted him to stop. Aside from a few tears glistening gently in his eyes, Thranduil seemed relatively okay with what was happening, “But you don't have to be scared of it all of the time.” 

 

 

The elfling frowned at him like Glorfindel had told him something completely impossible, “Are you scared of candles, Legolas?” 

 

 

“No.” 

 

 

“Why not?” 

 

 

He looked back up at his father for a moment, and then back to Glorfindel, “Candles can’t hurt me, and they give light so it isn’t so dark, and without them, Ada wouldn’t be able to read stories to me.” 

 

 

“You’re right, they can’t hurt you. And neither can the fires in here.” 

 

 

“But they're bigger.” 

 

 

“Yes they are, but just because something looks scary doesn't mean that it is.” Again, the elfling did not look convinced, “Is your Ada scary?” 

 

 

His nose crinkled with laughter, “No! Ada isn’t scary.” 

 

 

“Some elves might argue otherwise, just like some elves aren't afraid of fire and some are. Have you ever seen or heard of fires in hearths hurting people?” 

 

 

Legolas thought about it for a moment, “No.” 

 

 

“Have you ever seen one hurt somebody?” 

 

 

The elfling shook his head, “No.” 

 

 

“No. Do you know why the fire hurt you and me?” 

 

 

He shook his head again, “No.” 

 

 

“Because dark and foul creatures made it hurt us, made it do things it usually doesn’t do. Are you afraid of water?” 

 

 

“No.” 

 

 

“But it can't hurt people too.” 

 

 

Legolas looked a bit offended, he loved to go swimming, “Only if it's really deep, or really fast, or if you aren't careful.” 

 

 

“And unless it comes in the form of a Balrog, fire can only hurt you if there is lots and lots of it or if you aren't careful. You look like a pretty careful elfling to me.” 

 

 

“Ada says I need to listen better, though.” 

 

 

Glorfindel suppressed a grin, “You can learn to listen the same way you can learn not to be afraid of fire all of the time: practice.” 

 

 

Wide blue eyes wandered over to one of the closest fires and then quickly away again, “But how?” 

 

 

“You start small, you keep trying over and over again even if its hard. How about tomorrow night we all sit just a little bit closer to one of the fires by Elrond, he loves to tell stories if you ask him nicely. Do you think you can do that, Legolas?” 

 

 

He thought about it long and hard for a moment, “I can try.” 

 

 

“Good, that's all anybody can ask of you.” 

 

 

The three sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Legolas gave one of the biggest yawns Glorfindel had seen in a while. Thranduil pressed another kiss to his son's head, “On that note, I believe it is time for us to go to bed.”  

 

 

“Goodnight, Lord Glorfindel.” He sleepily muttered as his father stood from the chair they had been nestled in, for once not objecting to bedtime. 

 

 

“Goodnight Legolas, sweet dreams.” 

 

 

Glorfindel couldn't help but smile at the valiant effort the elfling put in to not hiding his face on the way out of the hall like he had done on the way in - even if he didn’t last all the way to the door. 

 

 

…………………………………………………………………….

 

You guys continue to astound me with your support,  thank you so much. Sorry this one is a day late. 

 

 

Would love to keep hearing from you, so leave a review please! 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 23: Throne

Chapter Text

Hi! 

 

Sorry it was late again this week, in working two jobs right now and working 16 hours days so it's been taking me a bit longer 

 

 

Anyways! 

 

Enjoy!

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

 

He walked into the throne room behind his ever serious escort, he knew their names, somewhere in his brain. Probably. But had quite forgotten them, or perhaps merely misplaced.

 

 

It mattered very little, Gandalf knew, because Thranduil had yet to forgive him for his part to play with the dwarves and the dragon. And so the Silvan people would not either; for they followed the lead of their King unfailingly in every aspect. It seemed likely the only reason Thranduil had even granted the request was because it had come from Radagast. 

 

 

Thranduil, shockingly, had always seemed to like Radagast. Which, logically, went against almost every single thing he knew about Thranduil. 

 

 

Perhaps it was because of how well his elves like the wizard, especially his son. 

 

 

A laugh rippled through the throne room although no words had been spoken. He knew that Radagast could hear the voices of the trees as well as well as any Silvan - he wondered if he could hear the souls voice of the Elvenking and his elves just as well.

 

 

To his immense disappointment Legolas was nowhere in sight. But that did not mean Thranduil did not have a cluster of warriors and friends.

 

 

As much a pack as any wolf or coyote in the forest was. 

 

 

Just more dangerous. Far, far more dangerous. 

 

 

Some hung or lazed in branches or roots that grew all around, some sat on the steps leading to the throne or on the actual platform. And unlike any king Gandalf had ever seen before, Thranduil allowed one to half sit and half lean against the arm of his throne while another lazed in Legolas’ vacant chair with his long legs thrown over the side. 

 

 

But then, Thranduil did not need a throne to be powerful; a throne is merely a chair if you care little for what it offers you. A bear is just as likely to kill you with one bite outside of its den as in it. 

 

 

He wondered if the pack had come just to watch their king talk to him, or if this was a common occurrence. This, familiar lingering. 

 

 

He wondered many things about the Woodland Realm, but mostly he wondered about what really happened and what they were really like when nobody else was around to witness it. 

 

 

Did Thranduil even use his throne at all with his own people? Or was it more informal? Or perhaps the trees would bring their concerns to him before the elves even had a chance. 

 

 

Somehow, Legolas always managed to say hardly a thing about his home, not really. Even when it sounded like he willingly answered all the questions. 

 

 

“Radagast,” Thranduil said by way of greeting, “I think you forgot to mention something, or rather, someone, in your message.” 

 

 

Gandalf, as instructed, kept his mouth shut. 

 

 

“Did I? Oh dear me, it must have slipped my mind. I'm always doing that, forgetting things or mixing them up. I don't know why I'm explaining it to you, you know it as well as any. Better than many, I suppose.” 

 

 

Thranduil held up his hand for him to stop with an exasperated shake of his head. 

 

 

An amused shake of his head. 

 

 

Gandalf could hardly believe his eyes, even Saruman did not have patience for Radagast. 

 

 

Ice blue eyes turned to him then - he wondered if those eyes ever looked warm, or if they always inflicted frostbite - and Thranduil scrutinized him closely, “You must have a good reason for coming here, Mithrandir.” 

 

 

“I come on behalf of Gondor, a human kingdom-” 

 

 

“And what do we care about human kingdoms?” Thranduil interrupted, nearly growing taller without even moving. “When they care for us not at all? Unless they want something.”

 

 

“It is but a small favor.”

 

 

“It is always a ‘small’ favor.” 

 

 

Radagast took a few steps closer to the the throne, much bolder than Gandalf would have ever dared to be. “When the Necromancer was driven from Dul Guldur, he returned to his old home in Mordor.” 

 

 

“What does that have to do with us?” 

 

 

“He has continued to use the spider venom as poison for his orcs to dip their blades and arrows.” 

 

 

The elves exchanged glances in silence. 

 

 

The Elleth leaning against the arm looked as if she might say something, but thought better of it after a glance from Thranduil. “And what do you need of us, then, Mithrandir.” 

 

 

“I know long ago you developed an anti-venom that can save the lives of both elves and men alike. I have heard of you saving the humans of Laketown and Ravenhill.”

 

 

Thranduil merely stared unblinkingly, so he continued, “I'm asking for you to give the recipe to me so that I might share the knowledge to help ease their suffering. I'm asking you to have pity for those who know the same suffering as your people.”

 

 

“We can give you the recipe, but it will do you no good without the plant from which it comes.” 

 

 

“Then you can tell me where-” 

 

 

“It grows deep in the mountains, and in other equally dark and cursed places. None are easy to get to. Most would be impossible for you without a guide. Many would probably be the end of you.” 

 

 

Gandalf was about to talk again, but Radagast put a hand on his arm to still him, “I'm sensing more to your words, King Thranduil.” 

 

 

His expression softened just a tad, and he gave an almost imperceptible nod of agreement. “It just so happens that we live deep within a mountain, and thanks to the startling dedication and care of our gardeners, we have managed to grow a small garden of them.” 

 

 

Radagast looked both delighted and shocked.

 

 

Casually, without a thought Thranduil lifted a hand and placed it on the Elleths back who leaned against the throne, “Ava go and fetch two healthy plants, and several seeds.” 

 

 

Judging by her alarmed expression, these plants were precious, “My King?” 

 

 

“Go.” 

 

 

Without another word she slipped off the throne and scuttled swiftly down the steps and leapt nimbly from the railless walkway and into the arms of another tree. Thranduil’s eyes trailed her for a few moments before he looked to the elf lounging I'm Legolas’ chair, “And you Farlen can get the recipe from Rowan.” 

 

 

The elf vanished just as quickly, but with no complaints. 

 

 

Then Thranduil turned to the wizards, “Preparing it is not easy, Mithrandir. I would imagine you will have to assist them, and even you might have to attempt it multiple times. Is that satisfactory for you?”

 

 

“Yes, thank you.” 

 

 

“And Mithrandir?” 

 

 

“Yes?” 

 

 

“An elf named Elruan died for these plants. His mother misses him greatly, and our halls are at a loss without his music and his voice. He was kind, strong, and helpful to a fault. Care for them as his sacrifice deserves.” 

 

 

0o0o0o0o 

 

 

 

Chapter 24: Habit

Chapter Text

“Ada.”

 

“Hmm?” It seemed not matter how tired he was, or how deeply he slept nothing woke him as quickly as son’s voice.

 

“It's cold in my room, I think the fire went out. I’m not supposed to use fire.”

 

It was so late and he was so tired, and the idea of getting out of bed was reprehensible, “Come here, then.”

 

There was a small dips at his feet as Legolas climbed up the bedpost and ran along the mattress, scutting under the covers where Thranduil held them open for him.

 

He settled quickly, stopping for a moment only to kiss his father’s cheek, “Love you, sweet dreams.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

0o0o0o0o

 

“Can Farlen, Ava and I go swimming in the pond outside the walls? Please, Ada?”

 

Three sets of sad and desperate eyes that were hardly tall enough to look properly over the desk to bore into him,  “And what is wrong with swimming inside the walls?”

 

They exchanged glances, “We like swimming there because there's lots more fish and frogs to see. One’s we haven't met before.”

 

“Your readings?”

 

“Finished.” They chorused together.

 

“Chores?”

 

“Finished.” Legolas and Avalina said, and then they elbowed Farlen who was trapped between them.

 

“I’m still washing all the pots for dinner.”

 

“Ah yes,” Thranduil said with a small smile, Galion did not liked to be lied to, some elfing had to learn the hard way. “I had forgotten about that. Yes, very well. Home for dinner.”

 

“Thank you!” They all called as two ran for the door.

 

Legolas however came around his father's desk and leaned on his tiptoes as Thranduil leaned down so he could kiss his father's cheek, “Love you, I’ll see you at dinner.”

 

“I love you too, my little leaf, be safe.”

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Legolas was regretfully deep into a novel assigned by his instructor when Thranduil came entered his room, fully dressed in a manner he rarely was within the safe halls of their home. He closed the book. “You’re going?”

 

“Yes.” He hated when his son looked like that.

 

“Is Ferdan going with you?”

 

Thranduil sat on the edge of his bed, “As if he would allow me to leave without him.”

 

“Good.”

 

“I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”

 

“Do you promise?”

 

“Always.” He kissed Legolas on the head, “And if I am not, for whatever reason, the tree’s will tell you.”

 

“Alright. If you say so.”

 

Thranduil knew that Legolas was trying to not look as upset as he felt, but he had never been good at hiding his emotions. At least, not from his father. “Galion will probably come and harrass you.”

 

Before his father stood back up, Legolas kissed his cheek. “I love you, be safe.”

 

“I love you too, my greenleaf.”

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

His office door opened without a knock, “I don't have time to stay and talk but I was in the kitchen and I saw they made these fresh and I know they’re your favorite so I stole you some.”

 

Fresh cinnamon buns were deposited next to his paperwork, warped lovingly but with obvious haste in a kitchen towel. Legolas kissed his cheek, “Alright, love you, bye. I’m late.”

 

Even in his haste, he didn’t let the door close until Thranduil called, “I love you too!”

 

0o0o0o0o

 

His bedroom door cracked open and Legolas crept inside, “Are you just getting home?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

“Yes.” Legolas kissed his cheek, “Love you, sweet dreams.”

 

“I love you, drink water before bed.”

 

0o0o0o0o

 

Legolas approached and stood close to his father expectantly, but with polite silence waiting for Glorfindel to finish speaking. When he did, Thranduil turned his attention to his son, “Yes?”

 

“Arwen and I are going for a ride in the forest before she makes Elladan’s body and Elladan’s head two separate things. Thought you might be interested to know. You’re also welcome to come.”

 

“I am quite comfortable here, thank you.” Legolas kissed his cheek, “I love you, have fun, be safe.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

0o0o0o0o0

 

“I’ll be okay, Ada, go and sleep in a proper bed.”

 

“No, thank you.”

 

“Ada.”

 

“Legolas.”

 

“The healers won’t let me let for another week at least, you’ve already been here one.” Thranduil frowned at his son, and then glanced down to where part of his left arm was still black from the venom. “I’ll be asleep soon anyway.”

 

Thranduil leaned forward in his increasingly uncomfortable chair and kissed Legolas’ cheek, “Then I will leave once you are asleep. Sweet dreams, I love you.”

 

Legolas rolled his eyes, but fought a smile, “You’re impossible. But I love you too.”

 

0o0o0o

 

Regretfully for the both of them, breakfast was over and the day was destined to begin. Legolas sighed heavily as they both got to their feet, “I’ve got to see some human men about seeds, I think. You?”

 

Thranduil thought about it for a moment, “Council meeting.”

 

“Lucky you.”

 

“Not sure if thats the word I would describe.”

 

“Well, you have me.” Legolas kissed his cheek and the began making for the door, “So maybe all your luck went into that. Love you, have a good day.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

0o0o0o0

 

He only woke up once Legolas was climbing onto the bed, he was had been trained by the best for stealth, after all. Very gently he trembled with a toxic combination of lingering fears and andrenlin bred by dreams that refused to let you forget the thing you wanted to forget the most.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“No,” Legolas’ voice was adamant in his answer as he wrapped the blankets even tighter around himself and laid so that his arm was pressed against his father's side.

 

“Alright.” Thranduil kissed his son's head, “Then just remember that it has already past once and you survived it, and you will survived this.”

 

Legolas was silent for perhaps two minutes, “I love you.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

O0o0o00

 

Well. One day I’ll get back to actually posting these on weekends.

 

Cant wait to hear your thoughts!



 

Chapter 25: Family

Chapter Text

Galion watched Arwen huff herself up the stairs to the main house, vanishing down the hallway that led to her bedroom without a word to anyone.

 

Legolas was worryingly absent, since the two had departed together. He glanced back to where Lindir had stopped speaking mid-sentence and winced in apology, “Could we continue this later?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Without a thought he went up and over the railing, trusting the trees to position a branch so that it he could easily reach and swing himself along. Following the pull and whispers from the trees who took it upon themselves to direct Galion towards his prince.

 

Unsurprisingly, he found him sitting small and snug in the branches of a tree that had sprouted from Thranduil's buried crown. One of two that had been planted in Imladris

 

Galion made himself comfortable on the branch across from Legolas, “Hello little Prince.”

 

His knees were drawn to his chest with arms folded over top and head resting on them, feeling very much like Thranduil when he was angry about something but trying not to be.

 

“What happened? It's not like you to fight with Arwen.”

 

The twins, certainly. But never Arwen. The Two were far more likely to fight against the twins together .

 

“It was stupid.”

 

“Yes, well, fights with friends often are.” Legolas sighed with frustration, and Galion touched his elbow, “There's no rush, take your time to find the words.”

 

He sighed again but this time more of a laugh, but still gave Galion an appreciative glance. To ease even more of the pressure, Galion began to count how many acorns he could see hanging from the branches.

 

A watched pot never boils and a scrutinized Legolas never spoke.

 

He had found twenty three acorns when Legolas finally said, “I don't even remember exactly what she said, something about her grandparents. Again. She won't come to Greenwood next summer, again, because she would rather go to Lothlorien, again.”

 

“And then I got upset, because I never have anything to contribute when she talks about all of her family. And I got more upset because it's cruel of me to be angry with her for loving her grandparents and wanting to see them.”

 

Legolas scowled at nothing in particularly and muttered venomously “I don't remember what I said either, but I'm certain it sounded different to her than it did in my head… and then she told me to stop being jealous of her family just because I don't have one of my own.”

 

At this point, Galion felt the need to smoothly interject, “Which isn't true, Legolas, you know that.”

 

“I do.” He laid his head sideways on his arms, “I have Ada and you at the very least.”

 

“You have many more than that. A family does not have to be blood, it's just the people in your life who love you as much as you love them, who care and support you the best they can.” Galion smiled at his own thought, “Although, by that definition, all of Greenwood is your family.”

 

“I'm fine with it if they are.”

 

“Arwen didn't mean what she said, Legolas. Just as I'm sure you didn't mean what you said.”

 

“I know, it just hurt.”

 

Galion gently pulled a stray leaf from Legolas’ hair, “That's understandable.”

 

The trees warned them of two approaching bodies, Arwen and Glorfindel. The Balrog slayer must have noticed the disturbance in the valley the same as Galion.

 

“Are you alright talking to her?”

 

Legolas smiled a little, “Yes. Thank you Galion.”

 

Judging by his tone, Legolas was referring to much more than just coming to sit with him today. He leaned across the small gap and kissed Legolas on his only exposed cheek, “Always, little prince.”

 

Then Galion fled to give the two time to talk in private, dropping next to Glorfindel as he made his way back to the house.

 

Glorfindel smiled at him, “At this rate, you and I will never need to have kids of our own.”

 

“No,” Galion agreed, “No we won't. And if we do, we’'ll already have lots of practice.

Chapter 26: Mood

Chapter Text

Galions walked into the shared sitting room attached to Legolas and Thranduil's bedrooms to find a very exasperated caretaker sitting alone reading a book.

 

She closed it with a snap and a sigh, "He's in a mood today. Doesn't want anything to do with me."

 

Galion smiled with sympathy, "You can go home. I'll take care of him now."

 

"As you say, Galion. I hope he is happier with you." Quickly, she was gone.

 

To say that Legolas was in a 'mood' was perhaps one of the least helpful things she could have told him. Legolas was always in a mood, of one sort or another.

 

That was like saying 'Thranduil's upset about something,' because as far as Galion could tell, Thranduil had come out of the womb complaining about the colors of the walls.

 

While Legolas was always in a mood of some kind, and Thranduil was always upset, the little one was happiest with his father and Thranduil could never be upset around his little leaf.

 

But Thranduil was not here, and so instead Galion walked over to Legolas' bedroom door and knocked softly before opening without waiting for an answer. Legolas laid on his side, wrapped up in one of Thranduils cloaks, with his stuffed toy in the shape of an elk pressed to his chest.

 

Oh. So he was in that mood.

 

"Hello, little prince." Unsurprisingly, Legolas just stared at him without saying a word, not even acknowledging his presence in the slightest.

But Galion was not deterred, and he crossed the room to scoop Legolas into his arms, taking care to ensure he was still wrapped snugly in the cloak.

 

Legolas for his part seemed content as he was carried back to the hallway and eventually outside and into the forest, to the base of some of his favorite trees.

 

There, bathed in the late afternoon sun and chirping birds Galion sat with Legolas on his lap, wrapped both in the cloak and his arms.

 

They sat together in the company of the forest and each other a while before Galion asked, "why so sad today?"

 

Legolas sighed, "I had a dream about Nana, and I miss her. And Ada isn't even here to help make it hurt less."

 

He kissed the elfling on the head, "I'm sorry, little prince." Legolas shrugged, "At least your Ada is home tomorrow."

 

Legolas nodded without a word, no doubt wishing that Thranduil hadn't needed to leave in the first place and Galion tightened his arms, and rested his cheek on top of the elflings head.

 

"Do you want to hear about the time your Ada got bit by a huge lizard because he embarrassed himself in front of your Nana and tried to hide in a pond?"

 

Suddenly, every once of his usual energy appeared once more and Legolas jumped in his arms, scrambling to get a better look at Galions, "Is that where the bite scar in his ankle is from?"

 

"One of them, I think the other is from Ferdan."

 

Blue eyes got wider, "Can you tell me that one too?"

 

"Can I get through the first one first?"

 

Legolas laughed, and the trees sang to hear it, and then he settled in Galion's lap again, "Yes, sorry."

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

He only woke up when Legolas shifted next to him in the grass, both now covered with the cloak.

 

A delighted tiny voice woke the clearing, "Ada!"

 

And then the prince was gone, running to where his father's arms waited for him. Galion blinked sleepily from he still laid, noticing that Thranduil was suspiciously clean, even if he had only be gone for two days.

 

Freshly clean.

 

He never washed before finding Legolas, unless he had something to hide from him. Like blood. "Alright?"

 

Thranduil cradled his son close, and took a few deep breaths. Chances were, he needed that hug as much as the prince. "Yes. We're going to bed, are you coming inside?"

 

"How long until sunrise?"

 

Thranduil adjusted his grip on Legolas, "Two hours?"

 

"Leave me here, the weather is nice. But take your cloak back, and we're going to have a problem."

 

He smiled and kissed the top of Legolas' head, "Keep the cloak forever for all I care, I have what I came for."

 

0o0o0o0

Omg look at me posting on the actual weekend.

Told you it was going to happen!

Chapter 27: Jewlery

Chapter Text

For Kat-Anni 

 

Happy birthday! I hope it was amazing and you got to spend it doing something that makes you happy. Thank you so much for all your warm thoughts, I'm forever thankful 

 

 

0o0o0p

 

 

 

Legolas stepped out of his bedroom and Aragorn couldn't help but stare. 

 

 

He had never really seen Legolas outside of his simple clothes of greens and browns. Seeing him in such a bright but deep blue was almost enough to stun him into silence, but seeing his hair loose and free of braids with a circlet resting on top certainly was. 

 

 

It was usually not in the forefront of his mind when he saw or spoke to Legolas that he was Prince Legolas, only son and heir of King Thranduil, the last ElvenKing on Arda. 

 

 

But seeing him now, he could hardly think of anything else. 

 

 

"Wow." 

 

 

Legolas rolled his eyes, "Don't start." 

 

 

"See," Elrohir said. 

 

 

"We told you." Elladan finished. 

 

 

Aragorn genuinely did not know what to say for a moment and then settled on another, "Wow." 

 

 

Legolas threw his hands up "Eru save me."

 

 

"You look so much like your father." 

 

 

"I always look like my father," he snapped. 

 

 

Elrohir held his hands up in defense, "Alright, calm down now. No need to act like him too."

 

 

Legolas turned to go back inside his bedroom, but Aragorn hopped off his perch in the railing between his brothers and caught him by the elbow, "Okay, sorry. We're done." 

 

 

"This is why I hate wearing it." 

 

 

Elladan scoffed, "This specifically is what you hate about wearing your circlet?" 

 

 

Legolas glared at him, "This is one of the many reasons why I hate wearing it." 

 

 

Aragorn couldn't help but ask, " How many reasons could you have?" 

 

 

He should have known better than that. 

 

 

"It gets tangled in my hair, it's pointless, it's literally impossible to sneak around wearing it, everybody stares at me, it gets caught on things, sometimes if I stand in the sun it blinds people."

 

 

The twins exchanged a look and Aragorn took a step back as Legolas threw his hands up in his passion of opinion, "It is nothing but a lump of metal on my head, that for some reason is supposed to be the only reason anybody respects or listens to me? Am I the only one who sees how strange that is? Why is it such a big deal? If somebody stole it and wore it, does that automatically make me worthlessness then? It one piece of jewelry that important?"

 

 

Perhaps used to his own habit of conversational tangents, Legolas stopped himself and began again. "Besides the point. It's also really irritating to have touching my face all of the time. And it startles some of the animals in the forest. Should I go on?" 

 

 

"Please don't." Elrohir said, eyes wide with alarm but also looking a bit impressed. 

 

 

While Elladan said, "I kind of want to see how many more he's got."

 

 

"I'm going to hit you." 

 

 

"Well that's not very Prince like of you."

 

 

Regardless of his almost impossibly confident tone, Elladan slipped of the railing as well and prepared to flee when Legolas seemed to ready himself for an assault. 

 

 

Smoothly, Aragorn stepped between them, "Ada said no killing each other this time." 

 

 

"I'm not going go kill him, just hurt him." Legolas promised,making to move around the human. 

 

 

"You touch me and I'll find a way to fasten that circlet to your head forever." 

 

 

"Going to be hard to do that with no hands."

 

 

"Children." Glorfindel warned from down the hall where his own door must have been left open, probably to allow the breeze through. 

 

 

They all stopped like statues. 

 

 

They listened to see if the Balrog Slayer was interested enough to investigate or not; and when he wasn't they couldn't help but laugh at themselves. 

 

 

Elladan's face softened, "You look good, princeling. Exactly like a person who doesn't need jewelry to be important, because every inch of the world can already feel that you are. You look like someone who's done enough for their people and the world for them to deserve to not do anything again for the rest if their life. You look exactly like someone who deserves to have their opinion be heard and valued by all the races."

 

 

Stepping forward, Elladan straightened the circlet gently, "You look like the how the rest of us know you to be, instead of hiding it under layers of green and weapons. It's good to see, is that so wrong?" 

 

 

Legolas' ears turned a slight shade of scarlet, in Aragorn's experience he had never taken such sincere compliments well. "No." 

 

 

"Good, then stop being so dramatic about it." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 28: Over

Chapter Text

Eventually there was nothing left to kill. Eventually everything was either dead or had long since fled from them.

 

Eventually. Finally. It was over.

 

Thank Eru it was over.

 

Next to him, Celeborn seemed to have come to the same conclusion. And then slowly, the warriors around them.

 

"Is it…?" Farlen asked, dried and wet blood from probably too many sources to count covering at least half of him, "Is it over?"

 

Against his own will, his fingers seemed absolutely unable to keep the grasp on his sword and it tumbled from his grasp.

 

"Yes." Thranduil heard himself say, even though he honestly wasn't even sure he was still inside his body. "It's over."

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, Avaleina's legs gave out beneath her. Now that he had been still for so long his own reactions were slowed, he reached out with his spirit to find where the injury was.

 

Only to find it was everywhere. The worst wound of all; for there's nothing in the world worse for a body than complete and utter exhaustion.

 

Others began to fall, their bodies finally succumbing to everything they had been forced to do relentlessly for the last year of the war.

 

The multiple assaults on their home. Having it nearly burnt down for a second time. Saying hundreds of painful goodbyes with a moment to actually say them.

 

All around the forest sent waves of concern, love and appreciation. Happily searching the souls of the elves at their feet to see which were simply tired and which needed healers.

 

The information flooded into Thranduil's head, but he directed it to the mind of another. Somebody who was actually in charge of their own body at the current moment.

 

Celeborn looked incredibly startled for only a moment, before he set his own warriors to work to help those of Greenwood. Thranduil could feel Galadriel's interest raking through the information with equal care and attention.

 

The trees had trusted the Avari leaders to share their information without Thranduil having to direct it himself.

 

Over.

 

It was finally over.

 

Those left standing began to weep in an indistinguishable combination of joy, relief, and unbelievable sorrow.

 

Whispering to one another, "Over. It's over."

 

Somebody came to stand before him, strong bands taking hold of his elbows to stop the minor sway he hadn't even realized he had, "Thranduil?"

 

A measure of warmth and strength flowed back into him from where Celeborn gripped his arms, a semblance of himself was stirred back to life. Allowing his mind to wander to the exact same place it always did when it had nowhere else to be, "Do you think Legolas is still alive?"

 

"There is not a single doubt in my mind." The from confidence was comforting, even if Thranduil wasn't certain it was as sincere at sounded. "He has too much of his father's stubbornness and tireless resolve. Aragorn and the Dwarf will keep him from drifting too far towards the stars or wherever else his heart pulls him."

 

"Dwarf?"

 

Celeborn smiled, "A conversation for another time."

 

Nearly against his will his eyes closed, taking endless pleasure of the wonderfully and achingly empty forest. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't had felt the darkness pressed against his border and spirit, leaching cold hate wherever it touched.

 

But now the forest was warming again.

 

"Thranduil?"

 

With a great amount of effort his eyes opened again, and found Celeborn looking more concerned than Thranduil would have liked, "I will be alright."

 

"Certainly, however might I suggest in the meantime, we find you somewhere to lay down near the rest of your warriors. We will take care of your people while you rest."

 

Thranduil found himself laughing at that, though it wasn't really all that funny, it was very unlikely that any of the Woodland Realm would follow the lead of Galadriel and Celeborn.

 

Before at least having the dignity to alert him they were there, several years slipped from his eyes and all Thranduil could do was laugh again, "I'm not entirely confident I can even move my legs right now."

 

Celeborn was not deterred, he was no stranger to the uniquely various effects of war,  "Together, then. We have the time."

 

"Because it's over."

 

Celeborn moved his hands from his arms to his face, "Yes, my dear Oropherion it's over. You and your people made it, I will never understand how, but you made it."

Chapter 29: Bend

Chapter Text

You are not alone.

 

It has been many years since we have gone for a walk together, Thranduil. King and protector of my trees and everything within.

 

I could sense your hope that I would come even from the shores I usually reside upon. My brother, Manwë, has been clearer than ever with our rule to not interfere with the happenings on Arda.

 

But I have bent the rules for you before. And I will bend them again, and if my brother has noticed he does not say anything. Or perhaps he already knew with the same certainty as I that I would come once I heard it was your son who joined the ring bearer.

 

You cannot see me, but you know I am here. I have not forgotten you. You are not alone.

 

You are lonely, Thranduil. Tired.

 

As much joy as my children get from having me walking among then, their concern and focus is on you. It has been since the awakening since they have grown to love any creature of flesh as much as they love me.

 

I search for all the darkness swirling in your thoughts; the ones you are aware of and the ones you are not.

 

You do not need to speak for me to know why you wished me here. To hear the troubles of your mind, and ache in your heart.

 

I understand you, Thranduil. I cannot fix it, but I can understand. You are not alone, even though the one who usually knows your thoughts as well as you yourself is so far from where you want him to be.

 

You are sad. You are angry. You feel forgotten.

 

I am sad for you and your people, for how you have suffered due to the stubborn arrogance and blind ambition of others. I am angry at our own inability help steer Fëanor and his like into shallower and cleaner waters within themselves.

 

I am sorry there is nothing more I can do to help. I cannot change, I cannot council and I cannot interfere.

 

But I can walk beside you in these trees that love you so dearly, and allow you to drop the walls you hold so stiffly around yourself. I can support the trees and the lives within for a breath of time to let you rest.

 

To let you grieve, and anger, and feel anything else you need to feel with the freedom of knowing it will not matter or effect anyone or anything around you.

 

Together we walk.

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

You are not alone.

 

The only times I have been called to your side, Legolas son of Thranduil, is when you are beneath the treetops of the forest that cradles you like a loved child.

 

But you are not beneath your trees now, yet this forest seems to be troubled by your heartbreak the same as your own.

 

So sympathetic they are to you that I felt the crack within this Golden Wood regardless of the Ring and it's bearers intent on keeping everything hidden. From everything.

 

I sense the keen interest of Artanis, daughter of Finarfin, as I breath into the forest she claims to rule. Like you, she cannot see me.

 

But like you, she is well aware I am here.

 

Your heart is troubled and swirling with regrets and unfinished thoughts. I cannot help but smile at the similarities of feelings and patterns between you and your father.

 

My brothers and sisters and I have long known that things of flesh often attempt to copy the echoes of past generations, but you and your father always seemed like echoes to me.

 

You do not like this forest, you miss your own. You second guess your choice to come and your value to this fellowship.

 

I am not supposed to interfere or alter. But I have bent the rules before and they did not break.

 

You worry that your father is angry, or worse, dead. You feel forgotten here, unimportant and undervalued. You are angry at the people here, angry how unaffected they are by Melkor's darkness that chokes your own home. You are sad.

 

You feel alone.

 

I do not know what it is about you and your people that draw me in as such, but I look within myself and recall all the similar swirling of emotions I bottled from your father, and I push them against you.

 

You calm.

 

Your steps slow and your eyes drift shut, wallowing yourself in the crystal clear depths of your father's heart. Wrapped around you lovingly like a blanket.

 

I understand you. Your worries and your angers. I understand the burden that leaves your shoulders trembling.

 

I cannot interfere. I cannot change. But I can bend.

 

You are not alone.

 

Together we walk.

 

0o0o0o0

POV from Yavanna (goddess of everything that grows.)

 

Can't wait to hear your thoughts!

Chapter 30: Favorite

Chapter Text

Galion caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Thranduil shifted, and he turned to see if that meant he was needed. He was, just not by Thranduil. The king gently placed Legolas on the ground, ensuring that his blanket was properly tied around his shoulder so that it wouldn’t get lost in transport, “He’s back there, go and see him then..”

 

Tiny feet made short work of the distance as Legolas dashed from where his father sat and over to Galoin, the blanket trailing behind him like a cape. Expectantly, Galion opened his arms and allowed the elfling to all but dive directly into them.

 

Legolas wrapped his arms around his chest, and buried his head beneath Galion’s chin. In returned, Galion held him close and kissed the top of Legolas’ blond head before resting his cheek on the same spot. “Hello, little prince.”

 

Thranduil looked on to ensure that Legolas arrived at his destination, and then turned back to his own conversation with a smile.  

 

Legolas’ voice was muffled and small, but happy. Always so happy. “I haven't seen you today, I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too. Did you have a good day?”

 

Legolas nodded, “Yes. The twins took me and Arwen riding in the forest.”

 

“Did they? Well that was very nice of them, wasn’t it.”

 

“They don’t tell me stories the whole time like you do, though.”

 

Across from him, Glorfindel seemed to be enjoying the sight emmesensly, one of his hands resting over his heart at the conversation.

 

“Well then I guess I’ll still have to be your favorite to go riding with.”  

 

“You will always be my favorite, Galion.”

 

Against his will Gallions eyes threatened to tear up at that but he blinked them away and snuggled Legolas closer, “Don’t tell your father that or he might get jealous.”  

 

“That's okay. Ada is my favorite Ada. You're my favorite everything else." Suddenly energized and excited, Legolas pulled back so he could see Galions face, “I made another friend today!”

 

“Did you?” Galion asked, tucking some of his wild hairs out of Legolas’ face, “Tell me about them.”

 

“It was a little bluebird and her babies, a tree told me that I should come and meet them. I’m glad I did, they sang songs to me about the valley.”

 

“That was very nice of the trees and the birds. Were the twins surprised?”

 

Legolas nodded again, and scrunched up his face, “Yes. They said the tree’s do not speak to them. Is that true?”

 

“Well I certainly cannot answer for the twins, but I do not see why they would tell you something if it was not true. The tree’s do not speak to all elves like the speak to us at home.”

 

This seemed to be one of the most surprising bits of information Legolas had ever learned. His eyes were huge and round, and for several seconds he seemed unable to decide on what to say, “Really?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Glorfindel took it upon himself to assure the tiny and absolutely stunned Elfling, “Its true. They usually do not speak to me, either.”

 

Legolas turned in his lap so that he could face Glorfindel, scooting back again so that his back was pressed against Galion’s chest, “Why? Are they mad at you? Did you hurt them?"

 

Glorfindel laughed and shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. Though, perhaps you would be the correct person to ask them since they speak to you.”

 

Galion could feel Legolas reaching out for the tree’s and he likewise grew more still in his lap. The tree’s rang with delight throughout the city, and Legoas returned his attention back to their conversation. “No. They aren't mad at you. They say you are one of their favorites, they like when you and Arwen play and talk in their branches.”

 

“Well that's good to know.”

 

Legolas seemed to be still in the midst of processing this new information. “Don’t you get lonely?”

 

Glorforfindel shrugged, “I suppose sometimes I do, but then I can just go and find a friend to sit with. Doesn’t it get too loud in your head?”

 

The elfling nodded after significant thought, “Yes, sometimes it's hard to listen to people talking because the tree’s have so much they want to say to me. But then I usually go and find Galion or Ada and they’re good at making quiet again.”

 

Glorfindel laughed a little, “That's good. Although I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen your Ada be quiet.”

 

“You must not know him very well,” Legolas said simply, and Galion tried not to choke on his suppressed laugh at the bluntness, “Ada is quite a lot, he is very good at listening. He makes it easy for me to talk.”

 

The Balrog Slayer just looked further endeared by this, “That is good. It should be easy to talk to your Ada, and your favorite."

 

Galion smiled, knowing he was the referred to favorite and blew a gentle raspberry on the elflings cheek, not entirely surprised when his near shriek of laughter brought the attention of many around them. "It's only because you're my favorite too, little prince."

 

Legolas blew a raspberry back on Galions cheek, "Don't tell Ada, he might get jealous."  

 

"He'll get over it."

 

0o0o0o0o

It's actually in time this weekend!! Look at me go!!!

Chapter 31: Cloud-watching

Chapter Text

Arwen saw her brothers walking up the steps towards the house and rushed to meet them at the door, "Where's Legolas?"

 

Elladan shrugged, "Don't know. He vanished when we returned to the stables without a word to either of us, probably got distracted by a tree or a bird or something. He'll turn up."

 

Arwen frowned but Elladan walked past her without a glancing notice and into the house. But Elrohir came to a stop in front of her and smoothed the crease forming between her eyes with his thumb, "What's wrong, little sister?"

 

"Legolas. He's been so off lately. Different than he should be."

 

"Different how?"

 

"Just," She struggled to find a way to explain it to him properly. To explain how his smile didn't reach his eyes and his laugh didn't make the trees dance. How she hadn't once heard him sing to the stars since he arrived, and how he had shown almost no interest in the hall if fire even though it was usually his favorite place to be. "Different."

 

Most elves probably would have brushed off her horribly articulated concerns, but never her brothers, and especially not Elrohir. "I'm worried about him Ro."

 

"Okay." He said, turning back from the house and back down the steps, "Let's go find him then."

 

Arwen dashed down the steps after him, holding tightly to her dress so that it wouldn't bunch at her feet at trip her. "Really?"

 

"Yes," Elrohir said with a gentle touch of humor even though his face remained the same, " You know him better than anyone else in this valley, if you say something is wrong, then I believe you."

 

She struggled for a good response but settled with, "Oh. Thank you."

 

"You're King Thranduil's favorite for a reason."

 

"I'm his favorite because I've never broken any of Legolas' limbs nor lost him, twice, while babysitting."

 

Elrohir gave her a half hearted glare, "He deserved that broken arm and if King Thranduil knew just how sneaky his son was then he shouldn't have left us in charge of the little rat to begin with."

 

"He isn't little anymore, you are no longer taller than him and Legolas can look you fully in the eyes. So at the very least, he's a regular sized rat."

 

"If he can look me in the eyes, I do believe if is safe to say that he's almost anything but a regular sized rat."

 

She rolled her eyes and bumped her hip into his with a laugh, "Why do you always have to have the last word."

 

"Because Elladan always gets the first so it's only fair."

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Eventually they found him, with some not-so-subtle hints from the trees to send them in the right direction. The hints being a trial and error sort of direction with acorns or berries being dropped on their heads when they turned down the wrong path.

 

Typical.

 

Legolas sat with his feet dangling in the near frigid waters of the mountain runoff, leaning back leisurely on his hands to admire the clouds. He didn’t so much as glance at them as they carefully skipped across the rocks that lead to the small island rock he had settled on.  

 

Arwen removed her shoes and took it upon herself to sit to Legolas’ right side, so close that their legs and shoulders touched, obviously ignoring the glare from her brother the moment her feet touched the ice water.

 

Elrohir sat on his left with his back rested against part of the rock and crossed legs facing the two of them instead of the stream.

 

When he still did not respond, Arwen leaned her head against his shoulders and let him keep staring at the clouds, “What's wrong?” He didn't say anything, and it didn’t appear as if he planned to either. “You can tell us, I swear.”

 

“I know I can tell you, I just don’t know yet if I want to.” Regardless, he looked away from the sky and sat up straight, his hands coming to rest near his knees.

 

Arwen kept her head on his shoulder, but moved her arm around his and laced their fingers together, “Why would you not want to?”

 

He adjusted his feet in the water so that all the loose rocks that hadn't been washed away covered the scars that curled up from the bottoms, “Because there is nothing you can say to make it better, and I know there isn't. But I know you’re going to try anyways, because you’re caring people and everyone always tries to say something. But I hate it, and I don't want you to. Everything just makes it worse.”

 

But Elrohir wasn’t phased by this in the slightest by this deterrent, “So we won't say anything.”

 

“Not one thing.” Arwen agreed readily.

 

Legolas didn’t look convinced, “Then what will you do?”

 

Elrohir shrugged, “If it's what you want we can sit here in complete silence for the next nine hours excpt to point out the shape of a cloud.”

 

Arwen nodded her agreement this time, a silent and demonstrated promise of their silence. Legolas sighed and his shoulders slumped a little and Arwen squeezed his fingers.

 

“It's the anniversary of my Nana’s death. I know that was long ago now, but my heart always gets that cold and dark feeling and if I don't pay enough attention to ignoring it I can feel how the coals and the fire burnt my feet. I will be alright, it will pass as it always does. But trying to be ‘Legolas’ is just...not something I can be right now. I just need to sit here, and be sad and sorry for myself for awhile.”

 

Arwen folded her other hand over the one she was already holding and turned her gaze to the sky.

 

Legolas seemed relieved that they kept their promise.

 

Elrohir pointed a hand to the sky, “Look, that one there looks like a Turtle riding a star.”

 

Both Legolas and Arwen frowned and titled their heads to look at it from Elrohir angle, “Oh. It does.”



Chapter 32: Burried-alive

Chapter Text

Somebody was dragging him back ward across the forest floor, the fall leaves slick with blood made it difficult. They had about five seconds before the orcs came over the hill and saw them, and it was imperative that they did not see the hatch.

He heard it thud open as somebody else said the password.

Four seconds.

They managed to lift him into the dark hole in the earth with surprising tenderness. Five of them already waited inside.

Three seconds.

They had to close the hatch door. They had to wait for the rest of them. They did not leave people behind.

Two seconds.

There more elves fell inside, all as wounded as the other waiting within.

“Now.” Somebody asked the tree's and the enchanted wood snapped shut. Rustling overhead told them that the roots had covered them with leaves.

One second.

The heavy thundering of uncaring feet shook the earth around them. And then over top.

They all held their breath as the darkness washed over them. Waited to see if they had pulled it off.

Waited to see if they were about to be hunted from their den like helpless rabbits. Because with so many of them so badly injured, they were helpless.

But the feet continued to thunder over them. The start of a brutal attack they had been able to properly warn their king about.

Silently, those that were still somewhat able to move set to helping to bind and treat the other's wounds.

When she was done the bandages on his chest she collapsed into the dirt next to him, her forehead pressed against his shoulder, a non-lethal but painful poison boiling in her veins.

Time passed.

Two of them were escorted to the halls, the last thing their eyes seeing nothing but darkness. His hand gripped her wrist, a thumb pressed against her pulse point.

So he knew she hadn't left him. Not yet.

Even Elves are not immune to bleeding out.

Time passed.

The swelling darkness above them didn't seem to be slowing in the slightest, and the thundering feet seemed endless. Most of them were not conscious to hear it.

But their troubled minds felt it, even in their oblivion.

Time passed.

Her wrist twisting in his grasp jerked him back to their tortured darkness.

“I'm here.”

He whispered, his voice hardly existent even if he wanted it to be louder. She kissed his shoulder and pressed her face against it, her forehead still burning.

Time passed.

His hands grew colder, and his heart beat slower. Tired. So tired.

Time passed.

Another one drifted away, all their lifeblood soaked into the earth and roots that cradled them.

They all silently agreed there were worse places to die.

They would have all rather die in the dark and the dirt than be found and captured by the enemy.

Her heart still beat, very slowly, but it beat.

Time passed.

It was the screaming of elves that woke him, not underground in their dark prison like he expected them to be. Not a scream of pain or fear, but of rage. Pure and unadulterated rage.
A war cry.

A cry of desperation.

Time passed.

The hatch above them thunked open as somebody on the other side said the password. The first light they had seen since they fell into their sanctuary turned grave spilled in. A few of them stirred, most did not.

Bue eyes turned a blurry vision to the door, where a golden head framed with tears and distress glowed prominently. For the first time since the darkness had enclosed around them, he felt comfort

His father's broken voice filled the silent and dark expanse, “Oh, Legolas.”

Her heartbeat still fluttered under his thumb.

Time passed.

He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that he was no longer in their underground sanctuary turned grave. Sunlight glowed a bright red even through his closed eyelids.

He could not feel her pulse.

His eyes flew open against his own will, squinting and watering in the morning sunlight, desperately searching for the face of the one he loved.

“She’s okay.”

The voice was soft, loving, and both his blankets and his hair were slightly adjusted. There was a creak as someone sitting in an old chair changed the way they sat in it.

The empty-spaced between his fingers were filled with his fathers, and he clenched onto them tightly, craving the contact he thought he would never see again. Slowly, and carefully of his many injuries muscles he turned his head to where his father sat in a chair between him and his beloved.

One hand of his holding each of theirs, even if she wasn't awake yet.

“I’m sorry it took so long to get you.”

His voice sounded hardly better than when he promised he had yet to leave her here on this earth without him, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it-”

“Just matters that you got there.”

His father pressed a loving kiss to his forehead, a tear leaving a drop of wetness on his forehead. “You need rest.”

Time passed.

It was the middle of the night the next time he woke, the shadows form the moon casting long and intimidating shadows.

He glanced to the bed next to him, finding her eyes open and staring at the ceiling. Surprisingly, his father was nowhere to be seen. Ther must have been and emergency that needed his attention. Otherwise, he would have still been here.

His father never left his side of he was hurt, not unless he had to. 

“Ava?” Her head turned to the side, and her eyes swam with tears the second they met him. Scared, alone, in pain. “Come here.”

Carefully she clambered out of her bed and he delicately moved himself to the very far right of his bed, and she slipped into the left.

His chest still ached with the wound and the poison, but for the first time, a sense of warmth touched it as her arm carefully and delicately snaked across his chest, pulling herself closer to him.

The darkness pressed in around them, but the candles kept their waking nightmares from before form touching their dreams.

Chapter 33: Engagement

Chapter Text

Her hands combed through his hair with no particular purpose, braiding and unbraiding at random. The music of the celebration seemed a dull buzz in the background, so unimportant he hardly even registered that.

 

All he could feel was her fingers.

 

Most of their friends had gone to bed, or were too drunk to sit still for this long, and they were alone.

 

Just like they liked it.

 

With a sly smile he checked to make sure nobody was paying attention to them, they weren't. Quick before she could react he turned his head and kissed her.

 

And then turned back around when she laughed, she leaned forward so her stomache was pressed against his back, "The wine has made you bold, my Prince."

 

A title hardly used, especially not between them. But it was a reminder of why nobody could know.

 

Not yet.

 

Love was dangerous these days. Especially in these woods. They couldn't love.

 

Not yet.

 

"Will you marry me?"

 

Her hands stilled and this time he swung his entire body around on the stump he was sitting on, her hands slid to his shoulders. "Yes."

 

His hear nearly soared to the clouds and he tried not to let his smile split his face in half, "Good."

 

0.0.0.0

 

Another Elleth asked him to dance. Another hopeful suitor he just wanted to go away. He had no interest, his heart was long since taken.

 

But he could not say that. Not yet.

 

And so he danced, and so did she. But not with each other.

 

Not yet.

 

That wouldn't happen until later when she snuck into his room, and then they would dance all they like to whatever sing the forest wanted to play that night.

 

He could feel her eyes, sense the hint of a fear lingering. Once the music stopped he excused himself, politely declining the next dance and claimed to need a drink.

 

He walked to the table she had settled near. The music was loud and his people were happy, nobody would hear. Regardless, he still nearly whispered it into her ear, "Will you marry me?"

 

"Yes."

 

0.0.0.0.0.0

 

It was not often they fought, but then they did it was always bad. Terrible in every way it could be.

 

Her back was to him but even then he could tell her arms were crossed. He still at on the edge of the bed.

 

They weren't done fighting about this. Not by a long shot, not yet.

 

"Will you marry me."

 

She still didn't look at him. Not yet. "Yes."

 

0.0.0.

 

They were crouched in treetops, his back pressed against the bark and nearly wedged solidly between two thick branches in an attempt to conceal them.

 

She was pressed against his chest, face buried in his shoulder to stifle whatever involuntary noises of pain were made. One of his arms held her tightly against him, the other crushed a grip on her upper arm in a way he knew was painful, but it was to slow the blood flow.

 

They didn't have enough anti-venom left on person to treat a wound so big, not properly.

 

The snapping Orcs and Snarling Wargs would pass.

 

They would get her help on time.

 

He kissed her cheek and then her temple and forehead, "Will you marry me?"

 

He felt her huff a laugh, even through the pain, and she nodded silently.

 

0.0.0.0

 

She slipped into his bed in the dead of night, laying her head and half her chest across his own. Automatically their legs tangled together.

 

He was so tired. Every inch of his body was exhausted and he didn't even have the energy to open the eyelids he was surprised to find had even closed go begin with. His arms came to hold her waist.

 

She sounded equally tired, "Will you marry me?"

 

"Always."

 

He felt her smile when she kissed the bottom of his jaw.

 

0.0.0.0

She wasn't surprised but was still disappointed when he wasn't home when she finally returned herself.

 

She slipped into his room anyways, his bed was much more comfortable than her own. And only almost exclusively because it smelled like him.

 

Waiting for her when she pulled the covers back was a ring made of a weaved from a bowstring and a strip of fabric the exact color of a newly grown Greenleaf.

 

They would get married one day. When this darkness was gone.

 

Soon. But not yet.

 

0.0.0.0

 

The birds were chirping happily in the new day sun when he woke up, he turned to the side to look at her.

 

His wife.

 

He had spent centuries asking her but it still seemed hardly really she had actually married him.

 

He rolled over onto her side of the bed, one arm around her waist pulling her bare back snugly against his chest.

 

He kissed a like down her shoulder and up her neck, she hummed happily. Once he was done he asked, "Will you marry me?"

 

She laughed and adjusted herself so that she was nearly laying on her back and could see his face, "I already have."

 

"Then marry me again, marry me a thousand times. Because I will never grow tired of asking you, and I certainly never want to stop hearing you tell me yes."

 

He stole what was probably going to be another laugh with a kiss, "You're ridiculous."

 

"Mhmm, perhaps. But you've known that for over thirty centuries." He kissed her again, because he loved her and he could.

 

Finally he could.

 

Still, he asked again, " Will you marry me?"

 

"Yes."

 

0.0.0.0

Chapter 34: Deal

Chapter Text

“My son, Thranduil.” Oropher said, gesturing to the elf standing next to him who looked enough like his father Celebrian would have known he was the son without the introduction, or the circlet on his head. “Thranduil will show you around the city and the forest while your father and I talk.”

 

It was subtle and brief but Celebrian didn’t miss the panic in his eyes even if his tone was smooth, “Thranduil will?”

 

“Yes.” Oropher said without a glance to his son, “Thranduil will.”

 

Celebrian her heard own father laugh from where he stood next to her and then he kissed her forehead, “Have fun, little star. I will see you later.”

 

Ignoring her own slight misgivings about the situation she tried to give him a bright smile and kissed his cheek, “Alright Ada, I will see you later.”

 

And then their fathers turned and walked away,  the Prince rolled his eyes at his fathers turned back.

 

“Impolite.” Came Orophers somewhat scolding tone as they began to ascend the stairs.

 

The two of them remained absolutely silent until they were certain the footsteps had faded completely. Thranduil cleared his throat awkwardly, “Hello.”

 

“Hello.”

 

The silence returned.

 

She could tell when she was not wanted. She was an only child of the Lord and Lady, and as such the other elfings hadn’t exactly raced to include her in things considered remotely against her parents wishes. Which, to an extent she could understand. Her mother could be frightening.

 

But it still made her angry.

 

Celebrian crossed her arms, not caring her tone sounded just as crossed, “Well don’t let me ruin your evening. Feel free to run off now that they’re out of sight, I won’t even say anything. I’ll tell my Ada I had a headache.”

 

He looked both a bit surprised and a tad offended at this continued turn of events. “And they say I’m the hostile one? Valar. I was going to just invite you to join but nevermind, enjoy your headache.”

 

Before she could say or do anything else he turned on his heel and vanished down another set of stairs.

 

Celebrian sighed.

 

0.0.0.0.0

 

A knock came at the door and she looked up from her book with a frown. At home she would usually find some random object to use as a bookmark but this was not her book, and so she carefully noted the page number and closed the book.

 

Not bothering to put shoes on eh walked to open it, stunned to find Prince Thranduil standing there. “How’s your headache?”

 

She stood a little straighter, “Its gone. Thank you for asking.”

 

“That's good. I was going to invite you to join me in tonight's activities, on one condition.”

 

She narrowed her eyes, “Whats the condition?”

 

“You don't tell your Ada and you certainly do not tell mine anything about it. Because we're probably going to end up places we aren't supposed to go.  Deal?”

 

Sensing a rarely offered adventure afot she wasted no time, “Deal.”

 

And then a beautiful smile lit up his face, the likes of which she never would have expected. “Go get changed into something you can climb in. I’ll wait out here, but hurry.”

 

0.0.0.0.0

 

“Your late!” A voice from the bush hissed, seconds before two other young male elves appeared from it.

 

“Sorry, I had to get Celebrian.”

 

She waved in a manner she hoped looked less awkward than it felt. One of the elves from the bush frowned, “Who’s Celebrian?”

 

“Lord Celeborns daughter.”

 

Thranduil indicated to the one who had done all the talking thus far, “Ferdan, son of Lord Belrome.”

 

The second newcomer raised his hand before Thranduil could get to him, “I’m Galion. I dont really matter.”

 

Ferdan snored loudly, “Then why is your ego still so big?”

 

Galion tossed some hair over his shoulders, “Birth defect. Nothing to be done.”

 

Thranduil said loudly over the both of them, “These are my two dearest friends.”

 

“And only one of us is getting paid!” Galion added brightly, laughing at Thranduil's expression. “Come on, we’re going to miss everything!”

 

"What would we be missing, by the way?"

 

Somewhere in the forest a horn was blown, Thranduil took her hand to guide her as they all began running through the trees, "A scavenger hunt!"

 

By the time she got home late that night, she was near covered in mud and several bruises but Celeborn hadn’t seen her so happy in months. So he let it slide that she was less than forthcoming about their activities.

 

0.0.0.0

Chapter 35: Mortality

Chapter Text

Aragorn stood firmly in front of Legolas, cutting off his only escape. "Why are you avoiding me?"

 

"Why would you think I am avoiding you, Estel?" Legolas asked innocently, with a touch of confusion that was almost good enough for him to believe.

 

"Because every time you have seen me for the past few weeks you have all but scaled the wall like a lizard to escape me. I may be mortal but i am not blind, Legolas!"

 

Legolas rolled his eyes, "You're being ridiculous."

 

"Perhaps. But I am not moving from this spot until you tell me why you are upset with me."

 

The elf narrowed his eyes with a silent threat, "Then I will move you."

 

Aragorn kept firm, "No you won't."

 

Legolas and his brothers had always been reluctant to use their elvish strength with him unless it was to train him. And after Aragorn figured this out, he wasn't shy about using the information to his fullest advantage.

 

And, if Legolas did actually physically and forcefully move him against his will just to escape being in the same room, it only proved his suspicions.

 

Legolas was angry with him about something.

 

He waited to see what would happen.

 

But then nothing did.

 

Legolas just crossed his arms and stared at Aragorn with an unflinching and unblinking gaze.

 

He kept waiting, and still, the elf did not move a single inch. But he did speak, "I can stand here for a long time King Elessar. An extremely long time. Several days, in fact. How about you? How long so you think you can stand there for?"

 

It was worse than Araogrn had thought, then. Whenever Legolas sounded exactly like his father, something was greatly amiss. Enough that Legolas had carefully plucked each and every one of his emotions and put them in a little box behind a shield and kept them there. Away from any stray window to the outside world that might betray a hint of an emotion.

 

"Fine." Aragorn said, and stopped aside so that Legolas could leave. There were other ways to get answers out of stubborn elves.

 

0.0.0.

 

"Don't you think this ought to be something you ask the lad?" Gimli asked, waving a pair of pliers aimlessly, a near red hot wire still held in its grip.

 

"I have asked him. Multiple times, in fact."

 

"And what did he say?"

 

"Nothing! He said nothing!"

 

"Considering his talent for talking, if he's so insistent on saying nothing perhaps you should trust his judgment."

 

Aragorn sighed, and leaned forward until his head thudded onto Gimli's workbench. He hadn't seemed particularly surprised about Legolas' sudden absence in Aragorn's life so the elf must have mentioned it to him already. Mentioned the reason.

 

He sighed again. He had always known Legolas owned the bulk of Gimli's loyalty, and the dwarf would probably literally die rather than betray Legalas' trust or feelings.

 

Delicate as they were.

 

Sometimes Gimli could be convinced to intervene or at the very least lead Aragorn in the right direction when it came to Legolas. But only if he agreed with Aragorn about the problem. And sometimes, not even then.

 

But it appeared not this time.

 

"But I can't fix it if I don't know what the problem is."

 

Gimli dipped the metal into water with a great massive hiss and set it aside so that he could turn his full attention to Aragorn, "It's nothing you can fix, Laddie. Even if you knew the problem."

 

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

 

"It wasn't supposed to."

 

Aragorn slid off the stool and stood straight, "Alright. Well. I would like to say this has been enlightening and a pleasure but it has been neither of those things. I'm leaving."

 

He turned and began walking away but something in Gimli's voice made him stop and turn, "Aragorn, all I'm saying is that just because you think you need to hear it, doesn't mean Legolas should be forced to say it. There are some things that cannot be taken back."

 

Then, quieter as he turned back to his work, "Go and ask Arwen about it."

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0

 

"He isn't angry with you, my love."

 

"I know he's angry. I know."

 

Arwen smiled sympathetically and took his hand, "Oh, he's angry, just not with you. And he's probably just as upset about it as you are."

 

"Then with who? Why?"

 

"Me."

 

That, Aragorn had not been expecting. His brain needed a moment to catch up. "What?"

 

Legolas and Arwen loved one another, they were best friends and partners in crime. And had been since elflings, Aragorn had come to understand.

 

They were an assumed automatic united front about everything, even with him and his brothers. Or perhaps, especially with him and his brothers.

 

The idea that Legolas would be angry with her, and for so long was absurd. Especially right after wedding-

 

Oh.

 

Oh.

 

He understood. It seemed idiotic of him to not have thought of the answer earlier.

 

Arwen didn't answer his question, so she must have watched him reach how own epiphany about it.

 

"Your mortality."

 

Arwen nodded, "He will work through it by himself or with whoever he chooses to share it with. Give him time."

 

0.0.0.0.0

 

He knew he probably ought to give him more space, but he missed Legolas. He missed him a lot.

 

The elf didn't run away from him this time, and so maybe he sense Aragorn's change of attitude. He came to stop near where Legolas sat on top of a thick wall so he could dangle his legs over the edge of an impossibly steep drop to the bottom of the city.

 

Aragorn leaned his arms near where Legolas sat, "I get it. I would be upset too, and I just want you to know that it's okay to feel this way. But if I don't bring it up again after this, can I have my friend back? Please?"

 

Legolas rested a hand briefly on Aragorn's head, and he felt the deep love that Legolas still had for him and sighed with relief.

 

Legolas nodded, "I missed you too Aragorn."



0.0.0.0

 

Better late than never, right??

Hope you liked it!!!

 

I'm going camping starting tomorrow so you probably won't see next weekend's prompt until Monday or Tuesday again. Have a good weekend!!!

Chapter 36: Immortal

Chapter Text

My dear flighty and insufferable elf, 

 

For a very long time the idea of immortality was incompressible to me. I was born and raised in a world where everything was destined to live out its set number of days as it wished and then it was to die. Having fulfilled a purpose or no. I knew from the moment I opened my eyes that there was only a certain number of times Eru had decided I would be able to do so. But for you, life is not so. 

 

And while I knew this fact about elves long before I even met you, I still could not understand it. Not really. 

 

I had hoped that in getting to know you I would come to understand how life could ever be designed to exist forever. I had hoped to understand more of what made eternal creatures eternal. Unsurprisingly, you were exedingly unhelpful on all fronts. As you most often are. 

 

From what I could tell, you are somehow uncomfortably timeless yet disturbingly and abundantly mortal in all other aspects. In all my years Eru allowed me to walk on Arda and Aman, few in number they may seem to you, I have never met a soul that takes such individual interest in every single matter of life and creation. Big or small, but usually smaller the better. 

 

I have never seen somebody drink in every word and sight as it is both their first and last, yet I have watched you do so for a century. And have no doubt you did so hundreds of years before you knew me, and hundreds of years after I am gone.   

 

I could hardly believe my eyes and ears when your good cheer, good nature, and good intentions did not waver for a single moment during our quest. I could not believe that such a light filled creature had been created that could withstand such determined and relentless hate. And I certainly could not believe that you had been enduring worse than the parallels of our quest for your entire life but laughed more in the first year I knew you than perhaps my entire family my entire life.  

 

I have never seen the world so uniquely but with such crystal clear sincerity as I did whenever you shared your views with me. The experience has been both an honor and a privilege.

 

Not unlike you, immortality proved to be a funny and tricky thing. 

 

Eventually. I stopped trying to understand the idea of immorality, and instead just watched you enjoy and suffer it. And while doing so has not brought me any closer to finding any logical answer, it has however brought me to my own conclusion that I refuse to be swayed from: Eternal life was created for you, Legolas, because there is no other soul that has walked or will that deserves it as much as you. 

 

You deserve an infinite number of sunrises to watch, birds to sing to, and nights to run under your trees. You deserve a never ending sea of days in which you can continue to fill every second with love and laughter. You deserve thousands of dances with the one you love, and to watch thousands of tree’s grow from seeds to oaks to rival the one’s in the gardens of Yavanna. 

 

You deserve so much. And I am glad everyday that I am alive, few it may be, that you are given what you deserve. Finally, after so long of suffering and heartache. 

 

If Lord Elrond has given you this letter than I’m fully aware you don’t feel any of this joy and wonder for life I say that you do. And that’s alright. You are allowed to be sad, and angry. You are allowed to yell and curse at anyone you like. You are encouraged to cry. You are allowed to miss me. 

 

Because I will  miss you too, no matter where Mandos puts my soul to rest. I will miss you so much. 

 

When the sadness feels crushing, and you cannot find the words or the will to speak remember that one single stubborn dwarf believes that eternitys were created for you to make the best of them. 

 

Even if your best is saying nothing for nine days and staring at the clouds. 

 

Leaving and goodbyes are hard for anybody, but especially for you. Especially when you have been given an immortal lifespan to miss the ones that did were given a mortal one. 

 

Everything will be okay, Lad. 

 

I will always be watching over you, even if I have to bribe or win a fight against Mandos himself. I will be there. 

 

I will be there with you in every sunrise and blooming flower you examine like its your first. I will be laughing that you forgot what you were saying but pleased that you are still finding so much endless joy in your endless days. 

 

So remember to breath, and remember pain passes. Remember everything you love about this world and remember how excited I am for you to see all of it. 

 

With immortal love, 

   Gimli son of Gloin 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0. 

 

I cried a little bit writing this, not going to lie. 

The older lady who kept her laundromat in Jasper open late specifically so that I could have dry bedding after a rainstorm ruined my life was VERY concerned.  

 

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!!

Chapter 37: Master

Chapter Text

Legolas tried not to stare at his father. Tried to. Wasn’t very successful about the task, but he had tried. Hardly a year the necromancer had been gone, and already another darkness had stepped seamlessly in to replace it. This ‘master beyond the woods’ had long been rumored about, but now they had proof. 

 

Hard won proof. 

 

Thranduil had hardly moved since he had finished reading the report of all the eavesdropped new collected by a few previously captured and then free’d elves. His hands were clasped together and rested against his face, elbows folded on the top of his  desk. As far as Legolas was aware, he had yet to blink. 

 

He assumed his father was going through all the same avenues of thought Legolas had when he had read it himself several hours earlier. The master beyond the wood was apparently well known to many of the other world powers, but in secret. 

 

Should they tell someone? And if so, who? 

 

There was no one member of another realm they could tell with confindend word would not reach the new ‘master’ that they had become aware. And that would likely spell doom for all of his people. While all the other continued to look one impassively.

 

Legolas had immediately thought of telling Gandalf of this news, but after his involvement with the dragon and the dwarves, many in Greenwood were no convinced that Gandalf himself was not the master.  Especially as he flitted from one tragic happening to the next, always involved whenever the darkness seemed to hide itself away. 

 

Pokeing. Prodding. 

 

And leaving others to deal with the mess. And the loss. 

 

And the bodies. 

 

They could not even trust to tell Lord Elrond or Lord Celeborn, for no doubt both would immediately inform Lady Galadriel. Who could do any number of things with the information.

 

No. There was none they could trust. 

 

Even if they did decide to tell any of them, who was to say they would even believe them? 

 

They had not believed his father when he insisted that Saruon had not been truly defeated, that he would rise again. They had not believed them that the darkness his home face and was slowly losing to was not an example of their simple minded weaknesses. They did not believe their word about the true and horrible nature of the darkness brewing in their woods.  

 

They did not believe. They never had. 

 

That was inconvenient. 

 

Finally, Legolas could take it no more and broke the three hour long silence. “Ada?” 

 

After near another minute, Thranduil roused himself and finally broke the staring contest with his desk to look up at Legolas, “Yes, my leaf?” 

 

He glanced down to the hastily scrawled messages across Thranduil's desk. Detailed reports followed by detailed opinions from various important elves form various important councils. “We’re on our own still, aren't we?” 

 

A ghost of a smile touched his father's lips and he half-breathed some sort of laugh, “Yes, my leaf. We are.” 

 

Leolgas nodded, more so tim himself than anything else and looked out the window with a sigh. 

 

The sun was shining today, the birds were chirping and happy. Laughter and song drifted in through his father's open window. A  new day, a new darkness, a new evil, a new battle in this endless war. 

 

“What are you going to do?” 

 

He looked back to his father's desk as Thranduil gathered up all the loose pieces of paper and tossed them into a basket on the corner, like he couldn't stand to look at it any longer. “If the world choses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have. I haven't lost yet.”

Chapter 38: Dance

Chapter Text

Music drifted in from a few of the open windows and into the hall of fire, faintly heard over the music being played within the hall, but Celebrain whipped around and out of her husband's arms to lean towards the windows at the faint hint of the first note. Thranduil and his Silvan elves had vanished into gardens far below the main house, as they usually did when they visited, once they had gotten too restless among their hosts.

She turned to Elrond with a delighted smile, "I love this song." A moment later she looked across the table from where Lord Celeborn seemed to also take note of the song outside, "Ada, do you remember Thranduil and Oropher teaching us the dance in the glade? When all the fireflies were about?"

Celeborn laughed and rubbed at his head, "I remember the headache the next day."

"I want to go to dance." She kissed Elrond briefly on the lips and then dashed for the door, throwing it open with a near bang in her haste. Elrond threw his father in a law a confused glance and then rushed out the same doors after his wife.

The music grew louder with each step, and his ears peaked with intent interest. It had been a long while since had heard any music that seemed to lift his heart as such. By the time he reached the bottom steps, Celebriann had already reached the cluster of Silvan elves.

There were already several pairs of Silvan elves dancing around the four performing in the center, Legolas and Avaleina had just stood to join them. Their movements practically mesmerizingly in union with one another, and the others around them.

Celebriann came to a near skidding stop in front of Thranduil who sat in the grass among his warriors, she reached her hands down expectantly, "Dance with me?"

He took her hand without hesitation, and allowed her to help haul him to his feet, "Of course."

Thranduil twirled her a few times until she laughed with glee, "Do you remember all of the steps?"

Elrond leaned against a tree to watch. Often Celebrain vanished to enjoy the company of Thranduil in solitude whenever he visited. He had heard stories of childhood comradery and many shared adventures and secrets but it seemed very seldom did Elrond ever get to witness it.

"I think so."

Thranduil bowed deeply, courteously extending an exaggerated hand. Celebriann curtsied with equal drama, and took it. He spun her a few more times before they stepped in line with the other four couples twirling under the stars.

Elrond had never seen Celebrain dance like that, had never known she even knew how. But she could, and it was beautiful and wonderful in ways he probably wouldn't be able to explain later. Like a water lily drifting down a stream, twirling and free.

The song continued and the beauty only grew, the beat quickened and so did the dance until everyone involved was partially a blur of perfect feet and hand movements. He glanced up briefly to where the windows of the hall of fire were, unsurprised to find many faces peering out to watch their Lady dance with the King of Greenwood.

Seemingly too soon for Celebrians taste, the song came to an end. A new one began to play, and Thranduil gently escorted her to the side and away from the dancers, Elrond found himself gravitating there automatically.

"Do you remember the first night I showed you that dance?" Thranduil asked.

Celebrian laughed and flashed a very brief and guilty look to where Celeborn watched from inside, "The first two times? No. The second time? No. The wine got the best of me. The third time, however, that one I remember."

Thranduil laughed, the kind Elrond did not often hear from him. True and genuine. "Was that the time with the fireflies? When your Ada was sick in a bush?"

She laughed again, "Yes. That's the time."

"If I recall correctly, that is not the only visitor who got sick that night."

Celebrian just straightened her skirts and looked more proud than ever, "You're the one who gave me all of the wine, so you are legally not allowed to complain about me getting sick."

This time it was Thranduil who laughed, in an open and bellowing kind of way that startled Elrond but apparently nobody else, and then he scoffed "Legally not allowed?"

She nodded firmly, "Yes. In case you've forgotten, I'm Lady of this valley."

As if noticing Elrond for the first time, Thranduil finally turned his attention to him. "If the opportunity ever comes up, I would strongly advise against a drinking competition with Ferdan."

There was a chorus of enthusiastic agreement from every single one of the visiting Silvan elves.

It was not often he was allowed to see this side of Thranduil. Or perhaps it was not often Thranduil removed his mask to allow him to see the face beneath it. The one that his friends and his people saw.

The one who rescued tiny frogs for his son, and taught Celebrain to shoot a bow without her father permission and gifted her the best summers of her young life. The one who had gained the undying love and loyalty from not only the tree's in his own forest, but most of all the ones who met him.

Elrond still didn't know what to say to Thranduil, though he wished he did.

Another song ended, and one faded in. Thranduil took Celebrains hand like it was an old habit, and she, in turn, took Elrond's. The King spoke to Elrond directly, though, "Come. Even a Noldor Lord can learn this dance."

.0.

I just love Thranduil and Celebrians best friend relationship headcanons I have so much.

Can't wait to hear your thoughts

Chapter 39: Somewhere

Chapter Text

"Ada," He could tell it was hard for him to talk, his breaths were ragged at best. "Can you tell me something nice?" 

 

He tried to ignore the warmth growing on his own pant legs as more of his sons blood seeped into them, "Of course, my little leaf. Of course I can." 

 

But the blood wasn't the problem. 

 

The venom was the problem. One he did not have a solution for. 

 

He adjusted how he was sitting, so that he could cradle Legolas rather than simply support him, he hoped he wasn't shaking. "Somewhere there's a place for us, that has peace and quiet and open air."

 

He moved Legolas' hands so that he could hold those too, as they grew slowly colder.

"Somewhere, there's a time for us."

 

Legolas' breaths grew even more strained, and Thranduil wanted to close his eyes against it all. But he could never do that to his son. "Someday, a time for us." 

 

The forest had grown absolutely still around them, watching with held breath as their Prince tried to remember how to stay alive. 

 

"Time together with time to spare," He kissed his forehead, trying to ignore how it burned with a deadly fever. "Time to look, and time to care." 

 

Tears began to slip from Legolas eyes and he didn't know if was in pain, fear, or sorrow. He wiped them away all the same and held his beautiful son closer, "Somewhere, little leaf, we'll find a new way of living." 

 

He felt the presence of Lady Yavanna's spirit close by, the sorrow of the forest having brought her attention all the way from Aman. 

 

He could tell that Legolas was starting to fall asleep. He gripped him tighter, wanting him to know that he wasn't alone. 

 

He was never alone. 

 

"Somewhere, there's a place where we can start healing, and forgiving." 

 

Ferdan fell to his knees next to him, unable to speak. Voice stolen with the unfairness of it all. 

 

This time Thranduil did close his eyes, "Somewhere there's a time and place for us, someday finally time for us." 

 

Slowly Legolas' hands seemed to be losing their grip. "Hold my hand, and we're halfway there." 

 

But his grip just grew weaker. 

 

Thranduil heard his own voice break along with his heart, "Hold my hand, little leaf, and I'll take you there." 

 

"Somewhere, someday, I'll take you there." 

 

Legolas head went limp against his shoulder, and the only thing that kept Thranduil upright was Ferdans strong arms. 

 

It should have already been too late to save him when Avaleina dropped from the trees with a fresh antidote, having been sent to meet with another patrol to retrieve it. 

 

But somehow, some way, that day it wasn't. 

 

0.00.0..0.0

 

"Ada, come! I want to show you something!" Legolas said by way of warning four seconds before he took Thranduil and Orophers hands, and  began pulling them both up the hill at high speeds. 

 

With a gleeful laugh, Thranduil allowed it. Watching as his own father pulled ahead of the other two, slightly. 

 

Oropher looked back at the two with a teasing smile, "Well, come on then." 

 

Both of the other elves could tell when they were being challenged to a race. 

 

They quickened their own paces, blowing past several very startled and serene looking Noldor on their way up. 

 

That only made the three of them laugh harder. 

 

In the end it was Thranduil who won, if only by a fraction of a second. He turned to the other two with a triumphant smile, "You two ought to know better than that." 

 

Hands on his knees Legolas looked up with offense, "Excuse me! I have won races against you on three occasions!" 

 

"Name them." 

 

"Arwens 2000th birthday, that one summer solstice when Farlen got so drunk he fell out of the tree, and in Ilithein at my and Avaleinas wedding." Legolas ticked each of them off with his fingers. 

 

"Your wedding doesn't count, it was your wedding. I let you win." 

 

Legolas somehow both scoffed and snorted, "Slander! You were just too drunk to see straight!" 

 

"So were you!" 

 

Oropher watched them with extreme fondness.

 

"And I still beat you!" 

 

Thranduil waved a hand, "Fine. You have three victories out of how many?" 

 

"Doesn't matter. I still have three victories." 

 

"What did you want to show him, leafling?" Oropher interrupted smoothly. 

 

"Oh, yes!" Legolas sprang forward again, pulling only his father along this time. Oropher followed regardless. 

 

He pulled him until Thranduil could see the entire expanse of their new home spread out before them. The great and powerful forest that's Lady Yavanna had grown for them, grown entirely from the seedlings of their old forest in Arda. 

 

Legolas gestured to with grandeur, "We finally found Somehwere." 

 

0.0.0. 

(Most of the dialogue in the first part is from the song "Somewhere" in west side story ) 

 

For Lusseeldalion, thank you for everything! 

Chapter 40: Memories

Chapter Text

He stood on the beach staring out to the waves, towards where the shores of Arda would be. Lost in his mind, his memories, and his heart. Thranduil had noticed Legolas become nearly transfixed nearing ten minutes ago.

At first, he had planned to allow him to swim amongst the memories of the life he had sailed away from, until Thranduil felt the painful downturn of his heart. He turned away from his son to look for a specific group of elflings, spotting the one he was looking for Thranduil gently called, "Lavien!"

Hearing her name the little elfling froze in her game and turned to her grandfather with questioning eyes, Thradnuil beckoned her over with a gesture. Smile splitting into a grin that was near a mirror of her father's she raced over, leaping when she got close enough and trusting her grandfather to catch her.

Which he did easily. Thranduil tossed her in the air a few times to her shrieked delight, before settling her in his arms and smoothing out her now wild hair.

"You called for me?" She asked, huge green eyes the shades of her mother's staring at him widely.

"Yes, I did." He turned the two of them around and pointed to where Legolas still stood completely still on the sand. Still absolutely lost within himself.

Lavien noticed her Ada quickly and tilted her head to the side in puzzled concern. "Is Ada okay?"

"Yes, your Ada's fine." Thranduil kissed his only grandchild on the head, "But I think he could use a hug, why don't you go and give him one?"

"Okay." She answered cheerfully, waiting until she had been placed gently back onto the ground. She glanced up only one for encouragement from Thranduil before she raced over to her father, dark hair trailing behind her effortlessly.

Unlike usual, the presence of his daughter's spirit didn't rouse Legolas from his thoughts, and he stood just as statuesque until Lavien gently touched his hand. The spell broken, Legolas jumped in surprise.

Lavien looked up guilty.

Immediately, Thranduil watched as Legolas reached down for her and lifted her into his arms in the same manner Thradnuil had so recently. From here, he could see that Lavien's concern for her father hadn't yet diminished, and so it seemed likely a few tears were on Legolas' face.

The elfling wound her arms around her father's neck and held him tightly, Legolas, in turn, began to rub a soothing hand up and down her back while rocking very gently side to side. With small hands, she reached up to wipe her Ada's face for him.

Even if Thranduil couldn't see his face, he felt Legolas' soul smile at that, and he kissed her cheek approximately thirty times in rapid succession. Her laugh filled the air and he knew Legolas' heart would only climb higher at the sound.

Good.

The two of them long lingered on the sand together, Lavien's face glued with rapt attention as her father painted vivid stories from another world for her. She looked so much like Legolas had whenever Thranduil had told him about Doraith that it nearly stopped his heart.

The celebration continued on behind them, but Thranduil was content to keep his back to it. He was more important matters to observe. He only looked away when he felt Avaleina come to stand next to him, her pregnant belly starting to clearly show from under her dress.

Thranduil put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into his side. "Are you alright? Do you need to rest? Food?"

He could feel how tired she was, this pregnancy had already been more difficult and taxing than the one with Lavien, and it was only hardly halfway over. Still, she shook her head. "No, I just came to check on my husband. I felt him wandering so far from home again."

Finally, Legolas turned away from the water, having also probably felt his wife's approach. Thranduil could nearly see the outlines of Minas Tirith glowing in Lavien's eyes. He put his daughter back onto the ground, and she ran back to Thranduil. "Grandadar, is it true that in Arda you kept treaties with all the human villages?"

"Well, not all the human villages. That is far too many villages. But I did keep treaties with the one's around our home." Lavien's eyes grew wide with wonder.

Legolas reached his family, casually but lovingly kissing Avaleina on the lips before bending to kiss her stomach, "See, I told you I wasn't lying."

Removing his arm from Ava, he reached down to scoop his granddaughter back up, "We also had treaties with the great eagles and the Avari elves."

Avaleina moved from leaning against his side, to her husbands, and Legolas wrapped an arm around her waist. "Are you alright, my love?"

He looked at her with a dazzling smile, the sorrow Thranduil had felt from his heart earlier growing fainter and fainter. "Yes, I was just lost in the past for a few minutes. Lost in memories."

She looked at him with sympathy and understanding, "Found your way back home to us now?"

"Yes."

Turning in his arms so that she could look at he father once more, Lavien brightly said, "Its okay Ada, we can make more memories today so then it'll be harder to find the sad ones again."

Legolas kissed her cheek and began leading his family back to the festivities, "That sounds like an excellent plan, my beautiful girl. Let's go and find your Grandnana too."

.0.

I thought it would be fun to try and write some Parental Legolas, it was.

(Valien means 'Elm Tree' or 'Elmwood' its a little homage to the common tree's that used to grow in Greenwood.

Can't wait to hear your thoughts!

Chapter 41: Proud

Chapter Text

You took your first breath today, and I don't think anything has rendered me so helpless or so full of tears so quickly before. 

 

You're perfect. 

 

The moment you're put in my arms I know I never want to let you go. 

 

You laugh and take my finger, and I swear you are the smallest thing I have ever seen. I briefly look at your mother and she laughs at me, and I know I'm still crying but I can't bring myself to care. 

 

I'm in love with everything you do. Everything you'll be. Oh, my sweet tiny little Greenleaf. I am so in love with you. 

 

You scrunch your face and cough once before breathing normally again, and I've never been more proud of anything in my entire life. 

 

0.0.0.0.0. 

 

You laughed again today, and it was the greatest gift Eru has ever bothered to give me. I don't remember what it was you were laughing at, but my whole world stopped moving so I could hear it. 

 

Nothing else existed in that moment. 

 

You are so young and have already seen so much pain, and somehow your laugh sounds exactly as I remember it. 

 

How has it only been two weeks since the last time? It feels like centuries. 

 

My world only continues to spin when I feel you tug on my hands before holding your arms up expectantly. 

 

I look down at you with a smile, and I think I might also be crying but I don't really care. I grab you under the armpits and toss you lightly in the air before catching you and snuggling you again me, my fingers searching for that one particularly ticklish spot. 

 

They find it and you laugh again. 

 

I've never been more proud of you in my life.  

 

0.0.0.0.

 

You came home with a fawn today, having apparently found her next to her dead mother.  And there was no possible way I could have said no to either sets of your pleading eyes.

 

One set brown, one set blue. 

 

And while I did not exactly expect you to convince me to let her sleep in our bed with us, nonetheless, I have never been more proud of you in my life. 

 

0.0.0. 

 

We left our woods to travel to another realm today. I could feel how scared you were at being away from not only your elven friends but also your tree friends. 

 

They make you feel safe, as if there's always a pair of warm and loving arms wrapped around you. I know this feeling all too well, my Greenleaf. 

 

And so as we past the final edge of our borders I make sure to hug you tighter and push my soul more strongly against yours. 

 

Not surprised when I feel Ferdan and Galion do the same. You had closed your eye right so that you would not be scared by too much empty space. 

 

You open them now and gasp with wonder, "Whoa." 

 

Your eyes grow impossibly wide trying to soak up the fields that stretch for miles, fear long forgotten and replaced with excitement and curiosity. 

 

I've never been more proud of you in my life. 

 

0.0.0. 

 

I'm furious with you. I do not actually recall, ever, being this angry. And I can tell by your face that you know this as well as I. 

 

Ferdan stands behind your chair with his arms crossed over his chest, and I know you can feel the burn from his eyes. 

 

The bow you and your friends stole layer across my desk. By far the loudest thing in the room and I am determined to keep it that way. 

 

You are a very lucky elfling that it was Galion who found the four of you. You know that, too. 

 

"Go to your room. Stay there until I come and speak to you." 

 

Silently you get up from the chair, eyes downcast the entire time. Not tonight. Tonight you will see my anger. "Legolas look at me." 

 

You glance at Ferdan once before turning to my face. "I want you ready to explain to me exactly why you did this, and what you think a good punishment should be." 

 

You nod, eyes brimming with tears at my stern tone. I will wipe your tears later, for now I want you to think. 

 

"Go." 

 

You literally run for the door, leaving it open in your haste. As soon as your gone I let my own tears fall, and thunk me head onto the desk. 

 

Ferdan goes to close the door and I take a moment to compose myself, this is the closest I've come to losing you since that night. 

 

And it was to your own foolishness. 

 

"Galion says Legolas hit his target three times, even with a bow significantly too big for him." 

 

"I know." I say, my face still on the desk. 

 

I'm so angry with you, but still I can't help but be proud. 

 

0.0..0.0 

 

The room is overflowing with giggles, and you and Avaleina are no exception. The dance mistress allows is for a few more more nerve to leave before she claps her hands. 

 

You all come to the first position. Faces struggling to remain neutral. 

 

"Come now; you are all soon to be graduated warriors. You cannot dance our customs in front of our people." 

 

"Again." The music resumes, and you all begin again. 

 

Naturally, Avaleina is your partner, and one of you makes a comment as you pass, your hands held close to another but not touching. 

 

You snort, and Farlen is send into his own giggles. 

 

But still you all dance perfectly, or so, it seems to me. 

 

She calls her hands again, "No. It's all wrong. All of it. Again." 

 

I've never been more proud of you in my life. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0 

 

Even with your eyes covered with the blindfold 8you manage to hit every clay ball perfectly, shattering it into equal sized pieces. 

 

The crowd is impressed, but I'm not. 

 

Still, it looks like you might throw up. 

 

You have done this hundreds of times with the same flawless result, but you have never been one for performance. Yet here you stand. 

 

Of course you're going to pass this test. Of course. 

 

Even if you didn't, you came and stood before the gaze of our entire realm for judgement; and I've never been more proud of you in my life. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0 

 

You appeared in the middle of the night, and dark shadow to block the moon. You climbed into the bed and collapsed into my arms. 

 

Distraught sobs overtake you, and suddenly you're my tiny little elfling again. 

 

Help is hard to seek. Especially after a loss you blame upon yourself. 

 

But you're here, and I'll tell you it's not your fault as many times as you need to hear it. And that I still love you a thousand times more than that. 

 

And I will tell you over and over, that even now, I've never been more proud of you. 

 

0.0.0. 0.0. 

 

I can hear your laugh, although I know you are absolutely nowhere near me.

 

I'm glad you're finding so much joy and merriment in your moment. Even if your heart is still saddened. 

 

I've never been more proud of you in my life. 

 

 0.0.0.0..0 

 

Inspired by Kat-anni's suggestion : "you're doing great sweety" and a time or times Thranduil thought similarly towards Legolas. 

Chapter 42: Misintepret

Chapter Text

They were safe as long as everyone watching could misinterpret their actions. 

 

Misinterpret the way he nearly had to be cornered in order to be coaxed into a dance with an elleth that was not her, or an otherwise equally close friend. Misinterpret the fact that he still didn't seem to dance with anybody but her, no matter how many friends were around, simply because nobody else had asked.

 

Misinterpret the flush of his face at being able to hold her so close as nothing more than a side effect of strong wine, misinterpret the way they grew closer and closer at the sunlight waned on the same thing. 

 

Misinterpret the way they stood so close together whenever they talked as trying to be heard over the music, and the raditing smiles on their faces to only be from the jokes of their friends. 

 

The darkness could not focus on her if everyone continued to misinterpret their bond. 

 

Misinterpret the fact that they were hardly ever apart from one another if allowed, and that neither had ever shown any interest in any of the plethora of suitable suitors that had so keenly presented themselves to both. 

 

Misinterpret that celebration or no, it was a common sight for all to see the two of them dancing beneath the trees and the stars. Dancing to no music other than the sound that kept them alive, kept her alive. The sweet and haunting but regretfully necessary bells of misinterpretations. 

 

They would be alright as long as that bells kept ringing through the forest. Loud enough it could drown out the sounds of those times where they did slip. When there could be no other explanation for the words that stumped out in the grips of heartbreak and loneliness. No excuse for the way they held each other and asked Mandos for just a few more days as more blood soaked the roots of their home. 

 

They could be together if they wrapped misinterpretation around them like a cloak. Shielding them from any eyes that could have witnessed her sneaking in and out of his room every night that he was home. Shield the way his light hardly seemed to turn out on nights she wasn't there, rest an enemy he is unable to face without her. 

 

They would be safe as long as nobody looked too closely at them at how their brightest smiles were always for each other. Or at the series of handmade promise rings that discreetly ruled her left hand. Or at the desperate devastation that is always much too evedant on their face when one comes to harm. 

 

Misinterpretation was key. Misinterpretation was important. 

 

It gave the allusion that she hadn’t had his heart tucked gently in her hands. It made it easier to pretend if she were to fall that his heart could still beat from whatever dark place it would be thrown. It made it easier to ignore the constant thumping of her heart in his hand. Made it easier to ignore how delicate it was. 

 

Misinterpretation made it easier to believe that any of this hiding had been necessary in the first place. Because it's only the deceptively smooth whispers of misinterpretation that had convinced him that his mother's death wouldn't have come if she had not been loved by his father. If the realm and the tree’s did not know that his father had lived and breathed for her. 

 

Misinterpretation allowed him to force all of his greatest fears into a box, ignore them, and call it his only option. It allowed the fears to still steal the only bits of sun that Eru let him have, it convinced him it was dangerous. That she was dangerous. 

 

Misinterpretation told him that the pain he still felt in his heart and the constant fear that burned in his veins wasn’t loss, but love. And it laughed when he believed it. 






 

Chapter 43: Glass

Chapter Text

Legolas knew that everyone would have heard the crash, and soon they would all come to investigate the source of the noise. 

 

Which, of course, had been him. 

 

Except, not on purpose. He would never break anything, especially other people's things. But the branch had been caught in the window when the wind blew it shut, and it was hurting his friend. 

 

He had tried to find somebody older and taller than him to help, but nobody had been around. And he knew better than to disturb important business. The table had been right there, it seemed an easy enough solution. 

 

He had considered the possibility of disturbing the curtain so much it dislodged the rod and sent it scarring the glass figure across the floor.

 

"Oh uh." 

 

Frantically he jumped down from the hallway table, careful not to disturb the vase on it, and served the damage again. Hoping it wouldn't look as bad from the new vantage point. 

 

It didn't.

 

He frantically began to try and shoo the glass across the hallway floor with his hands into a pile, maybe if most of the mess was cleaned up by the time somebody came he wouldn't be in so much trouble. 

 

They would let him come back to Imladris, because he liked it here and he liked his new friends. He wanted to come back. 

 

Ada nor Ferdan were even in the city, as both has gone for a walk with Lord Glorfindel and Lady Celebrian. He had no one to run to, no one to protect him. 

 

He had promised to behave while they were gone. 

 

He thought he had been. 

 

The glass strewn in all directions said otherwise. 

 

He was going to be in so much trouble. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0

 

Arwen came around the corner to see what the sound was, and found her new friend trying to clean up the mess with his hands, and cutting them up in the process.

 

She ran across the hallway, "No, stop! Stop! You're hurting yourself!" 

 

Legolas looked at her with tears down his face, but he did stop. "I didn't mean to break it. I didn't. I was trying to get the window off my friend." 

 

She looked to where he was pointing and saw the trapped branch, she looked back to Legolas. "Its okay, Legolas. Don't worry, Ada won't be angry with you." 

 

He sniffled miserably, "What if he is? What if he never lets me come back?" 

 

Arwen thought about it, she still really did not think her Ada would be angry. Not when they told him why it had gotten broken. But then, Legolas was a prince, so maybe he knew things she did not. And she really did want him to come back again, he was great fun and finally evened the numbers against the brothers. 

 

"Then I'll tell Ada that I broke it." 

 

"You would do that?"

 

"Yes. I'll tell him that I broke it, and you hurt your hands trying to clean it up for me. I'll even ask him to help your friend that's stuck in the window." 

 

"Really?" 

 

"For you, of course."  

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0. 

 

"Legolas, can you do it?"

 

He gave her a scandalized look from his incredibly comfortable lounging position, and snuggled into the covers around him to make a point. "Why do I have to do it?"

 

"Because I asked nicely, and you love me."

 

He scoffed, "So? Ask your husband, he loves to too."

 

"Please? I just had a baby."

 

"You had your last child nearly five years ago, that doesn't work anymore." 

 

She rolled her eyes at him and then crossed her arms, and glared at Legolas with everything she had. But he just laughed at her, " You shouldn't hold as such, sweet Evenstar, your face might get stuck. And then we'll have to call you 'Frownstar' and it just simply doesn't have the same presence." 

 

"What about if I remind you off the glass figure?" 

 

Legolas groaned, and then he moaned, and then he sighed. 

 

Then he slithered off the couch and dragged himself into a standing position, "Ugh. My life would have been so much more convenient if Elrond had just chucked me out that day like I was  convinced he was going to for some reason." 

 

She smiled sweetly, "Probably. But your life wouldn't have been near as much fun."

 

"Oh, it certainly would have. I think we're forgetting exactly who had to beg her father to allow her to come to Greenwood, since he was convinced we had ' too much fun." 

 

Arwen just shrugged again, and gave him one last sweet smile as he vanished through the doorway, sending her one last seething glare. For good measure she called after him, "Thank you! Love you!" 

 

"You don't blackmail the people you love!" 

 

"I do if it's you or my brothers!" 

 

"Ugh." 

 

Chapter 44: Lines

Chapter Text

It wasn't often you saw anybody unexpectedly this far out from any city, even less so this late into the fall, and most certainly not in the wee hours of the morning. 

 

The only reason Elrond, his twin sons and two foster fathers were here was because of Celegorm, who had drug his family out into the middle of nowhere to show them one wonder or another. That had been a week ago and so far they had simply been disinclined to return home just yet. The wilds were too peaceful yet to return to the sounds and smells of the city.  

 

The elves in the moon bathed glade below them stilled most of their playful movements, but were still talking amongst themselves merrily rather than stare up the hill to where Elrond and Maglor now stood in full view. 

 

"That's Thingol." Maglor said to nobody in particular, voice only slightly telling of his dislike their colored past.  

 

"Have you seen him since he was released from the halls?" Elrond asked, and Maglor only shook his head. After so much time spent wandering alone, he wasn't one for unnecessary speaking. 

 

Elladan and Elrohir wandered from where they had been pestering Meadhros to tell them one story or another and to the crest of the hill to investigate for themselves. Elladan asked, "I'm assuming he's the tallest?" 

 

Maglor just grunted with acknowledgment. 

 

Elrohir squinted at the other silhouettes sensing something achingly familiar about one of them, just as the smallest of the four shadows raised a hand and waved it high in the air. 

 

The twins broke out in matching grins and enthusiasm,"It's Legolas!" 

 

They ran down the hill to see him, and Legolas met them halfway across the field. There was a cry of surprise and then laughter when both twins leapt onto the prince at once, knocking him to the ground. 

 

The older elves on either side wandered forward in a much more measured manner. 

 

Elrond and his foster parents approached in silence. 

 

The other two shadows who he had come to recognize as Oropher and Thranduil however, continued to mutter and laugh amongst themselves. 

 

However they all stopped equal measures between one another with Legolas and the twins in the exact middle, still chattering happily and completely unaware of the near invisible line in the sand between the two families. 

 

Oropher said something too quiet for Elrond to hear, and Thingol and Thranduil didn't bother to stifle their laughs. Maedhros and Maglors exchanged glances. 

 

Looking past the twins, Legolas' keen eyes came to rest on Elrond himself, and he was impossibly pleased to see the renewed excitement in the younger elf's features. "Elrond!" 

 

He pulled forcefully away from the twins and made for Elrond eagerly, who mirrored the movement and the enthusiasm. Line be damned. He hadn't seen Legolas in nearly a century. 

 

Not caring in the slightest about the four sets is scrutinizing eyes, Elrond held him close for a long as Legolad would allow. There was still a distinct absent silence none had yet been able to fill since Legolas had moved out of his halls and back with his father and their people. 

 

Pulling away, Legolad smiled widely, "I missed you." 

 

Elrond pressed a loving hand against his cheek and then tucked some hairs behind his ears, "I missed you too, Greenleaf. You are always more than welcome to visit whenever you'd like, you know that." 

 

"I know, I keep meaning too. But you know how well I keep track of time, I've accidentally stayed with King Thingol for…" He trailed off and glanced behind him to where the three Kings still stood waiting, shoulder to shoulder. Their various masses of blond and silver hair mingling into one seamless sheet of silky sheen.  

 

Without waiting for the question to be asked Thingol answered firmly but with kindness and affection in his eyes, "Four years the first time, five the second." 

 

"Ah, yes." Legolas said and turned back around to face Elrond, "I kept meaning to leave but it never ended up happening. Something always came up to steal my attention..." 

 

"You will never hear me complain of your company, leafling." Thingol said once more with the same fondness Elrond had realized was the natural reaction to Legolas. “Or Avaleina’s.” 

 

Legolas looked back again long enough to send another dazzling smile to King Thingol, before he looked beyond Elrond to the two Feanorians standing behind them. Stepping around Elrond, Legolas crossed the invisible line in a near skip, and came to stand near but not too near. 

 

“It's a pleasure to see you again, Lord Maedhros and Lord Maglor. I am glad that you are well.”  

 

Their expressions remained neutral, and Maehros answered for both of them. “And you, Prince Legolas. Tyelepe is eager for the two of you to work together again, he’s been pestering absently for Elrond to invite you for months now.” 

 

“Oh!” Legolas said, nearly glowing brighter, “I have entire books fool of idea’s I wanted his thoughts and help with! Is your camp nearby? Perhaps I could drop a few of them off tonight or tomorrow?” 

 

Elladan went to answer, but clamped his mouth shut and glanced questioningly to Meadhros, who nodded once for permission. “We’re only a few miles back! When we get back to camp, we’ll tie a ribbon to a tree so that they can direct you right to us. Perhaps you could travel back home with us after?” 

 

"We already have plans for the next week but after that I can!" And then like he forgot something he cringed in retrospect. Uh-” Legolas faltered, and looked behind him again. “Grandada? Is that alright with you?” 

 

Oropher raised an eyebrow, “Since when did you ask anyone permission for anything?” 

 

“Since I am trying to be polite and considerate.” 

 

“You must have learned such a thing from Galion,” Oropher gave a hint of a smile, “Of course that is alright with me, Leafling. We have hogged your time and company for enough years, I suppose it is time we allow you to share yourself once more. What shall I tell your Grandnana of the crab festival?” 

 

Legolas looked back to Elrond, “Could you tell me when I would have to leave to travel for the festival?” 

 

“Of course I can. And if not I, then Celebrian.” 

 

Thingol cleared his throat delicately, "Elrond, you and your family are welcome to come as well, as my personal guests. I will have rooms prepared for you all." 

 

To make his point even more clear, Thingol level his gaze on Maedhros and Maglor, "All of your family." 

 

They both dipped their heads with acknowledgment and thanks, again Maedhros answered for both of them, "We'll speak to our brothers and have Legolas let you know." 

 

"Very well." 

 

Legolas gave another hug to each Predhel and returned to the ranks of his family, "In a week." 

 

"In a week." The twins repeated. 

 

And then the two groups parted ways, Elrond glanced back only once but saw no sign of the line that had been so clearly drawn in the sand beforehand. 

Chapter 45: Reverse

Chapter Text

Thranduil gently eased the door open in an incredibly strategic manner, and it allowed him the dignity of not squeaking. He stepped inside, shoes in hand, and closed it just as carefully. Nothing stirred from any of the rooms.

 

Success. 

 

He twisted around on tiptoes, softly putting his boots by the door and stepped onto the carpet. The room was chilled and no light glowed from the fire, and Legolas’ bedroom seemed to be equally as dark. 

 

Which, was to be expected. Considering it was only a few hours until sunrise. 

 

The great and prideful elevenking began to carefully tip-toe his way across their living space and towards his own bedroom door. He was halfway there when a sleepy voice drifted from his sons room, “You’re late.” 

 

Thranduil breathed a laugh and changed courses, coming to stand inside Legolas’ bedroom door. “I know, I apologize. We lost track of time.” 

 

Legolas lay curled on his side, a book he had clearly fallen asleep reading laying next to him on the bed and a small platter of various snack foods was on the nightstand. Probably courtesy of Galion before he had appeared to join Thranduil and Ferdan in their mischief. 

 

“Do you have any idea what time it is, elfling?” Legolas asked with mock sternness. “What's a father to think when you’re out for all hours of the night? The kingdom is going to say I let you run absolutely wild.”

 

Thranduil leaned against the doorframe, “Well, you do.” 

 

Legolas yawned, and the sternness melted from his face. “You’re right, I do. I’m a terrible father.” 

 

He wandered farther into the room and sat on the edge of Legolas’ bed, “What did you do tonight, little leaf?” 

 

“Ava and I had dinner and she tried to teach me one of the old dances, apparently it's not going very well.” Legolas closed the book that was next to him and put it on the floor, too lazy to get up and find a spare space to place it. “Then I came here and fell asleep. I didn’t even wake up when Galion came in.” 

 

“Yes, he’s always been deceptfully sneaky considering how loudly he always talking.” 

 

Legolas smiled and snorted once, “How about you, what did you do tonight?” 

 

“Oh, nothing really. Just enjoyed each other's company, just talking.” 

 

This time, Legola’s eyes narrowed with many silent accusations. “That's a very mischievous smile you have for somebody who didn’t do anything.” 

 

“This is my normal smile.” 

 

“It absolutely is not!”

 

Thranduil kissed him on the forehead, and adjusted the blankets to his satisfaction. “Hmm, well, you’ll never know.” 

 

“If you don’t tell me, then you’re not allowed to go out with your friends for a month.” Legolas crossed his arms pointedly.  

 

Thranduil laughed and stood up, “Then I’ll sneak out the window.” 

 

“I’ll board it closed.” 

 

“What if I just don’t come home for a month?” 

 

Legolas gasped with mock heartbreak, “And leave me here a word shell of the person I used to be? What would your mother say?” 

 

“She would tell me to pack more than just snacks in my bag, probably. You try and run away from home an elfling once with nothing but some fruit and she never lets you forget it.” 

 

“She’s a wise woman.” 

 

“Yes well, I had to get it from somewhere and it certainly was not from you.” 

 

“I raised you to have more respect for your elder than this.” 

 

Thranduil laughed again as he left the bedroom and began walking back towards his own, “No you didn’t.” 

 

Legolas’ voice drifted back, “Don’t forget your grounded!” 

 

0.0.0.

 

Thanks for reading!!!

Chapter 46: Reverse

Chapter Text

Thranduil gently eased the door open in an incredibly strategic manner, and it allowed him the dignity of not squeaking. He stepped inside, shoes in hand, and closed it just as carefully. Nothing stirred from any of the rooms.

 

Success. 

 

He twisted around on tiptoes, softly putting his boots by the door and stepped onto the carpet. The room was chilled and no light glowed from the fire, and Legolas’ bedroom seemed to be equally as dark. 

 

Which, was to be expected. Considering it was only a few hours until sunrise. 

 

The great and prideful elevenking began to carefully tip-toe his way across their living space and towards his own bedroom door. He was halfway there when a sleepy voice drifted from his sons room, “You’re late.” 

 

Thranduil breathed a laugh and changed courses, coming to stand inside Legolas’ bedroom door. “I know, I apologize. We lost track of time.” 

 

Legolas lay curled on his side, a book he had clearly fallen asleep reading laying next to him on the bed and a small platter of various snack foods was on the nightstand. Probably courtesy of Galion before he had appeared to join Thranduil and Ferdan in their mischief. 

 

“Do you have any idea what time it is, elfling?” Legolas asked with mock sternness. “What's a father to think when you’re out for all hours of the night? The kingdom is going to say I let you run absolutely wild.”

 

Thranduil leaned against the doorframe, “Well, you do.” 

 

Legolas yawned, and the sternness melted from his face. “You’re right, I do. I’m a terrible father.” 

 

He wandered farther into the room and sat on the edge of Legolas’ bed, “What did you do tonight, little leaf?” 

 

“Ava and I had dinner and she tried to teach me one of the old dances, apparently it's not going very well.” Legolas closed the book that was next to him and put it on the floor, too lazy to get up and find a spare space to place it. “Then I came here and fell asleep. I didn’t even wake up when Galion came in.” 

 

“Yes, he’s always been deceptfully sneaky considering how loudly he always talking.” 

 

Legolas smiled and snorted once, “How about you, what did you do tonight?” 

 

“Oh, nothing really. Just enjoyed each other's company, just talking.” 

 

This time, Legola’s eyes narrowed with many silent accusations. “That's a very mischievous smile you have for somebody who didn’t do anything.” 

 

“This is my normal smile.” 

 

“It absolutely is not!”

 

Thranduil kissed him on the forehead, and adjusted the blankets to his satisfaction. “Hmm, well, you’ll never know.” 

 

“If you don’t tell me, then you’re not allowed to go out with your friends for a month.” Legolas crossed his arms pointedly.  

 

Thranduil laughed and stood up, “Then I’ll sneak out the window.” 

 

“I’ll board it closed.” 

 

“What if I just don’t come home for a month?” 

 

Legolas gasped with mock heartbreak, “And leave me here a word shell of the person I used to be? What would your mother say?” 

 

“She would tell me to pack more than just snacks in my bag, probably. You try and run away from home an elfling once with nothing but some fruit and she never lets you forget it.” 

 

“She’s a wise woman.” 

 

“Yes well, I had to get it from somewhere and it certainly was not from you.” 

 

“I raised you to have more respect for your elder than this.” 

 

Thranduil laughed again as he left the bedroom and began walking back towards his own, “No you didn’t.” 

 

Legolas’ voice drifted back, “Don’t forget your grounded!” 

 

0.0.0.

 

Thanks for reading!!!

Chapter 47: Aurora

Chapter Text

Aurora as in the oncoming dawn, and not the Northern Lights 

 

O.o.o.o.o.o.onO.o.



He stood on the top of the hill, as close to the 

edge as he could manage without falling off or having the dwarf yell at him. Feeling about as swept up in his infernal storm of emotions as the leaves who jetted past him within the clutches of the winds cruel grasp. His hair longed to follow, and apparently most of the rest of his body too.

 

It felt like his very soul did. 

 

He stared to the sky he had never once expected to see again, admiring the last glimpse of the stars before they twinkled into oblivion in the light of the morning sunlight. He had always admired the stars but never before had he ever felt like one quite so much. 

 

Stars were things of impossible wonder and excitement, but they depended on the overwhelming darkness of their world in order to matter. They were only to be noticed when the rest of the world was too dark to hold any wonder or beauty of its own, they were only of consequence when the world needed them. 

 

When they had something to offer. 

 

The sky just beyond the horizon began to explode with colors and majesty, staining the bottoms of the sky and the clouds more colorfully than any artist would ever dare to attempt. It sang of dawns and days spent laughing.

 

 It echoed with the silent, unnoticed, and unmourned death of the stars. 

 

He cast his eyes upwards again, unmourned by all but one perhaps. 

 

He should be happy, he should be bursting at every seam that Eru gave him with joy. He should be shining brighter than any star, or perhaps even the sun itself with the weight if his joy. But he wasn't, in fact, in this moment he felt like the weakest star of them all.

 

The Fourth Age dawned before him, the one goal that had cast a shadow of his entire life finally cast aside. 

 

Yet he did not feel like the sun or the colors in the sky. He felt like he had grown to need darkness in order to shine. In order to be of consequence. 

 

In order to have something to offer.    

 

He turned his eyes away once more from the sky, and towards the camp much below his feet. Watching as the celebrating continued, as the men who each held their own personal sun's danced and sang and glowed with every single color of the sky above them. 

 

He suddenly regretted coming up so high up on this hill, so far above them they would not yet be able to see him with their night vision. So far above the faint flow of his skin would look exactly like a star. 

 

Dwindling and pointless in light of the upcoming sunrise. 

 

He heard the scuffle of Gimi’s foot against a stone, much closer than he usually managed to get before he noticed him. He smiled a bit at the thought, the dwarf had learned much in their time together. 

 

He did not turn but just listened to the dwarf's drawn-out approach, waiting for him to speak. He did not have to wait long, “What are you doing out here all alone like this?” 

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

“Being a star,” Legolas answered simply, still observing the swirling mass of men below them, a strange sense of melancholy haning around his head darker than the night sky.  

 

In Gimli’s opinion, with the shadow of the night still cast above him and the lights of the coming morning throwing themselves across the elf’s face, he could have been a star. But something told it was not in the same way that Legolas had meant it. 

 

He walked forward farther and came to stand next to his friend on the hillside, he had sensed that something was wrong with Legolas much earlier in the evening. His joy seemed hollow, and his optimism faked. 

 

“A star, huh?” Legolas nodded nearly imperceptibly. Gimli looked back up the the real stars, and then back down to his friend, “Nah, I don’t think so.” 

 

The elf’s expression changed a fraction, but it was enough Gimli knew that was not the response he had been expecting to hear. Legolas took his eyes away from the men, the sunrise, and the stars for perhaps the first time in hours to turn to him and asked simply, “Oh?” 

 

“From this angle, you look more like a sunrise to me than a star.” 

 

Legolas blinked and the hint a sly smile touched his lips, he crouched down, sat, and threw his legs across the edge the small cliff, “How about now that we are nearly eye level?”

 

Gimli rolled his eyes at the short joke but sat next to Legolas anyways, “Still more sun-like to me.” 

 

He contemplated that for a few moments, and Gimli let him, content to admire the colors that continued to unfold before their eyes. A new day, a new age, free from darkness. 

 

“Gimli, have you ever felt happiness so big it felt liked sadness?” 

 

This time, it was his turn to contemplate his answer and Legolas let him, swinging his legs idly while he waited. “Yes. At least, I think I have." 

 

"When?" 

 

"A few times. Usually in light of an event I had been looking forward to for some time. I would spend so much time and energy looking forward, thinking, picturing what it would be like and feel like that when the moment came it felt more fleeting than a breath. So quickly my head and my heart did not get even have the time to properly prepare myself, and I am left feeling guilty for reasons and things I don't understand other than I should be happier but I'm not." 

 

Legolas looked over to him with surprised delight, and Gimli assumed that meant he had managed to guess the elf emotions correctly, "Like being a star during a sunrise." 

 

Gimli patted his hand, "Then its important that you remember you only feel like a star. You are not one." 

 

"Hmm, perhaps." Legolad said mildly. 

 

"You also need to remember to be more patient with yourself. Two thousand years is a long time to anticipate something. Give yourself at least two to come to terms with it." 

 

"And in the meantime?" 

 

"In the meantime, my absurd elf, we are going to go back down among the men and let their enthusiasm bleed into your veins until you can almost fake it to end your own." 



O.o.o.o.o.o

 

Chapter 48: Wolves

Chapter Text

“Who raised you? Wolves? Do not wear your boots on my bed.” 

 

“You, Galion and Ferdan did. I would be better mannered if wolves had raised me.” 

 

“Perhaps, but you would not be near as much fun.” 

 

“Perhaps not, but maybe I wouldn’t forget to take my boots off.” 

 

“You probably wouldn’t wear boots, wolves have no purpose for them.” 

 

“I would not actually be a physical wolf, Ada, that's not how it works.” 

 

“Yes, but who would make your boots? Who would even know you needed then? Do you think hedgehogs would volunteer their quills and the spiders their finest webs so that the wolves can sew your footwear?” 

 

“What is wrong with you?”

 

“They don’t have thumbs, Legolas. I don't think they could even hold a needle even if they had managed to gather all of the knowledge and tools for the task.” 

 

“What if they stole them from a village for me?” 

 

“You think they would deem it important enough to try and enter a   house knowing full well how many of them are killed a year by the mortals? How would they even enter the house?” 

 

“Suppose they drug somebody out of a field while they were at work and then took his boots.” 

 

“But how would they take the boots off?” 

 

“I don't know, bite the bottom of it and shake it off.”

 

“Boots are far too tight for such a thing, they would have a better chance of just tearing it to shreds in their mouths.” 

 

“Why are you putting so much thought into this?” 

 

“There would be a better chance of them accidentally biting the enter limb off  trying to get the boots to begin with.” 

 

"That is incredibly morbid and unnecessary." 

 

"You were the one who wanted boots so badly." 

 

"You were the one that let me get raised by wolves!" 

 

"You were the one who didn't want to be fun." 

 

"Hard to be fun when the ones who raised me brought boots with the old owners feet still inside of them." 

 

"Some Elves are just never satisfied with whatever well meaning, but truly harrowing, actions their Wolfpack commits for them." 

 

"Forgive me, I'm still recovering from the disembodied feet incident." 

 

"Should have stayed at home and let me raise you, then." 

 

"Should have let me have my boots on the bed." 

 

"Never. Next time it happens I'll be scaring some poor wolf pup for life by throwing footwear still occupied into the far reaches of the forest." 

 

"At least the wolves gnawed off somebody else's feet in order to help me, not my own to permanently disfigure me." 

 

"Maybe they would have once you had your own boots, and did it to them. You really never know."

 

"I'm done with this conversation." 

 

"I'm ashamed at you, those are the well groomed manners the wolves raised you to have! What would your other father say?" 

 

" 'Awuuuoooooo,' probably." 

 

"But in a more scolding tone, I assume." 

 

"Obviously, what kind of father do you think he is?" 

 

"A hairy one." 

Chapter 49: Reason

Chapter Text

Celeborn strolled into the clearing the Fellowship had settled in, casually snatching Legolas’ twin knives from where he hand hung them on a branch at the side of camp without breaking stride. He slid their sheaths off and tossed them lightly on the ground. 

 

He could feel almost all the eyes of the fellowship upon him, all except for their resident elf. Who still lounged upon a precariously thin branch with hands folded behind his head, eyes closed even though he would have felt the Celeborns approach. 

 

The tree’s probably also told him; one could never trust the tree’s around Thranduil or Legolas. Even their own forest. 

 

Celeborn came to a smooth stop beneath where Legolas laid, the Prince ignored him. 

 

Ever his father's son. 

 

But that was the entire reason he had come here, because Legolas was Thranduil's through and through. And Celeborn knew that Thranduil could not remain still with his negative emotions, lest they burn a hole in his soul. 

 

He flipped the expertly crafted knives upwards into the air, listening to the the gasp from a hobbit and the whistle of the steel as it sliced the air. Legolas’ hands moved from behind his head to outwards to grasp the hilts so quickly even Celeborn almost missed it. 

 

Legolas twirled them a few times with a cold and practiced rhythm, before he dropped them both back to the ground. Celeborn knew better and had enough trust not to move, and the knives landed on either side of him. 

 

 Celeborn huffed a laugh, pulled them from the ground and tossed them back up again. Legolas repeated his exact movements. “If you want to play catch,  Legolas, we can.” 

 

He heard Aragorn hiss lightly at Legolas tone. 

 

Celeborn didn’t mind, in fact, he hadn’t noticed until Aragorn made the sound. He could not fault Legolas for his anger upon being here. At seeing the peace they lived and thrived in, even while only a relatively short distance away his Kingdom crumbled to darkness. He would be angry too. 

 

But he could not let Legolas sit in his anger. He wouldn’t. The Prince would only burn himself alive. 

 

He heard Legolas snort softly in amusement, and Celeborn knew Thranduil well enough to prepare himself, “Catch, then.” 

 

Legolas fell from the tree like a graceful but very clearly rabind and well motivated squirrel, Celeborn quickly back peddled to a safer distance. Legolas landed just were Celeborn had been, between his swords, and grabbed both as he tucked into a seamless roll. 

 

Once he reached his feet again, he launched himself into the air and moved to separate Celeborn’s head from the rest of his body, but from a good vantage point. 

 

Celeborn ducked and twisted, already raising a his sword to block an attack from one of Legolas knives, curving his hips to the right the avoid the other one.  

 

Good, Celeborn thought, as Legolas came after him again and again in a relentless flurry of blows. Each near perfect, and each as fast as the last, Now let’s see how long I can keep you at this. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0. 

 

As it turned out, Legolas had enough anger in him to last for several hours. Exactly how many Celeborn wasn't sure, but enough that even the two of them had developed a thin sheen of sweat. 

 

Aragorn called time on their match before a definite winner was determined. 

 

Celeborn held his arm out to Legolas to clasp,  a show of respect between warriors, “I knew Ferdan taught you well, but I did not know he taught you that well.” 

 

Legolas took hold of his arm tightly smiling a little for the first time since Celeborn had seen him enter their forest, “Did you think he would accept anything less?” 

 

“I think it is you who could not stand to accept anything less.” 

 

Legolas let go of his arm and shrugged, “It has served me will thus far, has it not?” 

 

“Yes, that is has. You and your people, I hope it continues to do so.” 

 

The younger elf tilted his head to the side slightly, and a smoldering anger rekindled in his eyes. Celeborn wasn’t certain if anything would ever be able to blow it out, “Yes, it is all anybody has ever done for us. Hoped, usually from a distance.”

 

“Hope isn’t enough anymore, not even our own.” Legolas picked up his knives and sheathed them, “Goodnight, Lord Celeborn.”  

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.. 

 

Galadriel looked upon her husband, dressed in his armour and cloaked in his strongest determination. He knew she wasn’t surprised by his choice, she hardly ever was. And yet she stood mildly in front of him, face open but expectant. 

 

A reason. She would need a reason, and a good one at that to kiss her husband goodbye into another blood war. Or perhaps, a reason good enough for her to join him on this. Combine their powers one last time for the sake of the good souls in middle earth. 

 

“My hope is too weak, my love.” He took two steps towards her, and she took his hand with comfort, “I can’t sit here and hope any longer, I need to go help Thranduil. I need to.” 

 

Wither her other hand she lightly smoothed the wrinkles away from between his brows, “Let us go, then.”  

 

0.0.0.0. 

 

“Why here?” Thranduil asked, looking and sounding more sincere than Celeborn had seen him Thingol had still lived, “Why now? What reason could you have to pull yourself off your shelf after all of this time?” 

 

“Funny thing, I was jolted off it,” Celeborn began, removing a bright and fresh green leaf that he had plucked from his forest and brought all the way here. Free and untouched by darkness. He offered it to Thranduil, who took it with a slightly trembling hand, “By what I once thought to be ones of Eru’s lightest creations.” 

Chapter 50: Participate

Chapter Text

Celebrian sat next to her father at the high table, watching the elves in the crowd below them swirl with colors, excitement, and fun. She rested her head on her hand and tried not to look too bored or miserable. 

 

It was debatable how successful she was. 

 

She had asked her father to let her stay in the room Oropher had given them to use for the duration of their stay and let her enjoy her own company and a good book, unsurprisingly he had disallowed it. A celebration like this was only fun when you had a group of friends to enjoy it with. 

 

People to dance and laugh with.  

 

Or at least, that's what she had gathered from her personal experience. She had yet to actually convince any group of young elves to allow her to join them for any celebration mischief, on account that all the youngs elves within Lothlorien were too terrified of her mother to allow Celebrian to join them. 

 

She could not necessarily blame them for she certainly did not enjoy it whenever she gained her mother's wrath, but that did not mean she could not be a little bit bitter about it. 

 

And bitter she was. 

 

The only elf she knew enough to perhaps consider a friend here in Greenwood was Prince Thranduil, but she had not seen him since early the day before as he vanished into the treetops, face painted with a wicked grin with Orophers bellowing voice echoing after him. 

 

Celebrian sighed, a bit louder than she intended to and her father pressed a sympathetic kiss to her temple, “A few more hours and we can return to our room and have a rematch of our game from this afternoon, hmm?” 

 

She gave him the happiest smile she could muster, it wasn’t her father's fault that there were certain expectations from visiting dignitaries, taking part in the celebrations being one of them, and she didn’t want him to feel any guilt about it, “Alright Ada, that would be nice.” 

 

Celeborn turned back to his conversation with King Oropher and other important members of Greenwood's nation, and Celebrian turned back to watching the others have fun. 

 

She wasn’t sure how long she had stared into the crowd when she noticed several leaves drifting onto her head and empty plate from above. With a frown, she brushed them off her head and lap, assuming it was just from some elves scrambling around in nearby treetops. 

 

Until a few berries landed on her head with suspicious precision, it was then that she glanced to the top of the reasonably sized rock shelf the high table had been placed in front of. Surprised to find Prince Thranduil crouched on top of it. 

 

He held his finger to his lips to hush her before she could say a word, and Celebrian suddenly remembered that Oropher had apparently been attempting to track his son down for the better part of the entire day. Unsuccessfully. 

 

She cocked her head to the side with a silent question. After a momentary glance at his father, Thranduil held his hands down to her from above, clearly meaning for her to reach up and grasp them. 

 

She didn’t waste a second.

 

 Before either her father or King Oropher could notice, she stood on her chair and grasped his hands tightly. He pulled her up so swiftly it felt like she had taken spontaneous flight. So hard had he pulled that she didn’t even need to clamber over the edge of the rock, she just shot up and over and into the waiting arms of Ferdan, Thranduil’s best friend and eternal partner in mischief. 

 

She faintly heard her father's uproarious laughter at her vanishing act, soon followed by Oropher exclaiming, “Eru help me, I don’t know what I’m going to do with that boy!” 

 

Snickering, Thranduil took her hands and led her away from the cliff's edge in a hurried crouch and into the crowd, vanishing before a few guards appeared where they had been standing before in a futile attempt to capture their prince and return him to his father. 

 

With louder laughs and easy smiles, they continued their rushed tactical retreat.  

 

They stopped once they reached a small cluster of elves lingering in the treeline that appeared to be waiting for them, and Celebrian’s heart warmed a little at the thought of how pointedly Thranduil must have sought her out. Enough that his friends had waited for the rescue mission. 

 

“Told you I could do it without getting caught,” Thranduil grinned, easily catching a waterskin another tossed to him. He tore the cork out with his teeth and took a long drink, making a “Blah,” sound after he swallowed. 

 

He passed it to Ferdan who copied him, and then passed it to Celebrian. 

 

She knew enough about Thranduil be know for certain it did not contain water, and reasonably certain it also wasn’t wine, but some sort of horrible self-brewed substance much stronger than wine. 

 

The assembled elves look to her expectantly, even as Thranduil said, “You don’t have to drink any.” 

 

But this was the first time it seemed she would have the opportunity to enjoy a celebration to the fullest it had to offer, and so she took a deep breath and took a swig. The taste was an awful bitterness that she had never experienced before, and it made her face pucker and her throat almost close in rejection. But she forced herself and her body to swallow it down, and then nearly gagged. 

 

“Open your mouth,” Thranduil commanded and then tossed a few sweet berries in to chase the horrid aftertaste away, and then rubbed a soothing hand across her back as Celebrian continue to cough mildly, “Atta girl, now you’re really one of us.” 

 

A few of his friends cheered or laughed, and Ferdan took the waterskin back.

 

Already she felt warmth travel through her veins like she had swallowed a tiny bit of fire, and her ears seemed like they nearly glowed with warmth. Coridually Thranduil held a hand out to her, “May I have this dance, Lady Celebrian?” 

 

Around her, most of his friends had paired off to dance as well. She shook her head midly, “No, that's alright.” 

 

He seemed almost hurt, “Why not?” 

 

She chewed on her bottom lip in nervousness, a habit her mother hated, “I don’t know any of these dances. I’ll look ridiculous.” 

 

“Well, there’s only one way to learn. And if you think you look too ridiculous, I’ll scream at the top of my lungs and then pull Ferdan’s pants down. Nobody will remember how well you or badly you danced after that.” 

 

She laughed loudly, louder than she had in some time. Then she accepted his hand, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

Chapter 51: Poem

Chapter Text

"Legolas," Pippin began around a mouthful of rabbit stew, "I thought all the elves were very creative with poetry and words and stories and stuff." 

 

Legolas smiled from the branch he had climbed onto to pester and befriend an unsuspecting lizard, "I wouldn't say 'all elves' as such generalization cannot be made for any race or group. But yes, often among elvish culture theres a certain importance placed upon the value of creations."

 

Pippin finished chewing and swallowing his mouthful before asking the next question,although Legolas suspected it was more out of fear of Merry or Frodo kicking him in the shins for lack of manners if he didnt, "Aragorn tells us nearly 3 stories or poems a night, Boromir has shared a great deal from his people, and I'm fairly certain Gimli has at least two dozen poetry books memorized. But we haven't heard anything from you, why is that? Do your people not create?" 

 

Momentarily Legolas was at a loss for words, he was just become so accustomed to never sharing his people's creations outside of his home. He was so accustomed to nobody even wanted to hear them anyways. It seemed they prepared their subject lighter, or at the very least their expertly weaved retellings of tragedy and heartbreak to before of a memory than a day to day activity. 

 

"Well," He began carefully, "That's because my people's songs and poems have been very melancholy as of late." 

 

"No offense to Aragorn, but his subjects haven't exactly been what we hobbits call lighthearted." 

 

"No," Legolas agreed, swinging backwards off the branch but hooking his knees around it so that he hung upside down, "You're correct they haven't been cherry, but they're of a far less recent heartbreak. More entertainment is had and less uncomfortable silence afterwards." 

 

"Would you tell us one of your people's poems, Legolas?" Frodo asked carefully, watching for signs that their new friend might be growing uncomfortable, "Anyone at all? It would be lovely to hear it!" 

 

The was a few very near identical noises of agreements from the rest of the hobbits. Legolas contemplated the request for a few moments, now that he was putting thought into it, he couldn't remember any poems. 

 

"Since I know you will never recite you own," Aragorn said pointedly, having spent a great deal of time in his younger years trying to convince Legolas to trust him enough to share his various artworks to almost no effect, "How about somebody on your patrol? I know how many songs and poems you all write to help pass the night away. What about one of Avaleina's?" 

 

Legolas loosened his grip on the tree branch and let himself slip farther toward the ground  until his hands touched the dirt. Once they did, he released his legs and balanced perfectly upright on his hands. Finally, with one delicate and fluid forward roll, he came to sit next to Aragorn next to the fire. It all took him about four seconds. 

 

"If it's really what you want-" 

 

"It is," Pippin interrupted in his youthful enthusiasm, and Legolas had to smile. He really did enjoy the young hobbit. 

 

"But I warn you, it is not a light nor a happy subject." 

 

"We understand," Frodo assured him, "May we hear it now, please?" 

 

Legolas thought about it for a few seconds, momentarily getting lost within his own memories of the first time it had been told to him. It had been the dead of night and during a storm, they had been trapped at the back of a deep cave as a new crop of fresh hatchling spiders swarmed their forest in a desperate frenzy to find their first meal before they starved to death.It was a relatively limited window. 

 

He had been sitting right beside her. Her hand gripped tightly in his, and yet he still hardly heard all of the words. 

 

Legolas ensured he was louder in his retelling of it:

 

"There are things in my trees 

There's a voice in my head 

There's an ache in my heart

A sword in my hand. 

 

The days glow warm with victory, 

The night have been stolen and cursed. 

They bite with the same cold malice 

As the heartache that made us all so callous.

 

We subject ourselves to their cold eyes, 

We reveal our dire plight. 

The voice.

The ache. 

Our dying fight.

 

We confess our fears 

Then close our eyes, and then our ears 

against their laughter and their sneers.

 

They say its for we havnt seen their trees, 

Know not the light their wisdom brings.

They dont listen and they dont care,

That their trees have long since disappeared,

Any wisdom that was whispered long since whisked away by the hateful wind. 

 

Our stars still shine,

Our forest still grows. 

Our hearts are broken,

But onwards we grow. 

 

Theres so many things to be said, 

Theres too many joy's to be had. 

It's too bad that there's things in the trees,

And a voice in my head.

 

Our story goes on and on, 

Ever we go on and on. 

In darkness or in light,

We will rage on against this hateful plight.

Because there are things in the trees, 

A voice in my head, 

And either they're going to leave or I will. 

 

And if tonight's the night they win,

And our battle comes to a weary and drawn out end,

Well, 

At least the stars are out and shining, 

Knowing there can't be any voices

If I have no longer have a head."

 

A deep silence filled their campsite, as the fellowship all soaked in the words. Legolas could still hear the echo of Avaleina's whispered voice in his heart. Absently, he brought up his hand up to tug at the ribbon she had braided into his hair before he left for the council. 

 

"Thank you, Legolas," Frodo said after everybody else remained silent, "I know such things cannot be easy for you to repeat, but I appreciate the opportunity to understand you and your people better. It was beautiful." 

 

"Dark and haunting," Gimli added, ignoring the death glare Aragorn began to give him, "But in the most lovely way I've ever heard." 

 

Chapter 52: Thief

Chapter Text

"Alright, bring me the next," Thingol said, as one citizen left with mandatory hours of service for being an incredibly unruly, extremely drunken disturbance from the day before. 

 

The guards silently brought in the next with two guards uncharacteristically remaining on either side of him. Thranduil took interest when he noticed the guard on the right had a black eye and a very swollen nose. 

 

His interest increased when he realized he recognized the elf standing between them, too. He had seen him expertly steal several fruits and two loaves of bread in one of the city markets hardly a month ago. 

 

Thranduil, out of boredom and mild interest had decided to follow him to see what elf in their city felt the need to steal. And if the reason was unworthy perhaps turn him in for it 

 

He could still remember the shock when six young elflings had come spilling out the house. One of them pointed down the road to where Thranduil stood.  That's when the thief noticed him too, and Thranduil had watched his face drain of all color and it looked like he might pass out. 

 

So with a shrug and a waving gesture, Thranduil had just turned and walked away without a glance back. He became aware of Luthien's mind and soul push against his own, absently he pushed the memory towards her.  

 

"What is his crime?" Thingol asked, giving Thranduil a brief inquisitorial glance. 

 

"A string of thieves, my king." The guard with the black eye answered. "And he refuses to tell us his name or family." 

 

Thingol waved mildly for the guards to release his arms, "I assume he was the one who did that to your eye as well?" 

 

"Yes, my king." 

 

This time Thingol spoke directly to the thief, "Why did you do it?" 

 

"Didn't want to get arrested, sir." 

 

"I wasn't asking about the black eye." 

 

Thranduil had to admire him, not many could withstand such direct and unfaltering eye contact with Thingol. Especially when standing before him charged with a crime. "I was aware of that." 

 

Before the situation could spiral in a way that would be unfavorable for the thief, Thranduil spoke for him. "Its food for six elflings, the things he stole. It was food.” 

 

On her father's right, Luthien nodded enthusiastically. And the thief leveled a look on Thranduil, the first time he had looked at him at all since he had been brought in, "It’s eight elflings, actually." 

 

"And what is an elf so young as you doing with eight elflings?" Thingol asked.

 

"They're my brothers and sisters and cousins."

 

"And you cannot provide for them in any other way than theft?" 

 

"I have a job, my king. Two in fact. I work in a lumberyard as a porter or splitter in the day, and in the evening and nights, I help the fishermen haul in their catches and clean them for tomorrow's market. In my spare time, I sing in the streets. It's not enough." 

 

Thingol gave this several moment of quiet contemplation, "Are there none other that can assist you with the family funds?" 

 

"My Nana was taken from us during my youngest sister’s birth, Ada hasn't gotten out of bed since. My Aunt does what she can, but my uncle never returned from the first battle against the agents of evil and my sister is but three years old so she has to stay at home with them. I am the only one left, my king, that’s able to work." 

 

Before he could even think, Thranduil found himself blurting out of turn, "There's a space on my patrol. It's a bit dangerous, but it pays well. Can you use a sword?" 

 

"Even better than my fists." 

 

Suddenly remembering where they were standing, Thranduil turned an apologetic look to King Thingol who was staring at him with a mildly surprised expression. "Apologies, my king." 

 

Thingol snorted, "You're a worse liar than your father. He will need training, and the next group is not set to start for two months yet.” 

 

“I’ll train him.” Thranduil volunteered immediately, when Thinkgol looked unconvinced, Thranduil hastily added, “What better way to keep me out of trouble?” Thingol just continued to stare at him silently and so Thranduil added, “Please?” 

 

Thingol turned once more back to the thief, “And what do you think of this? Would you accept daily training from Prince Thranduil?” 

 

“Of course, my king, without hesitation.” The other elfs eyes were wide as dinner plates, he clearly couldn’t believe his luck. He had come for criminal charges and was leaving with a prestigious job offer. 

 

Thingol looked back to Thranduil, “And you’re ready to take full responsibility for him and his training?” 

 

“Yes,” Thranduil answered, adding a few vigorous nods to prove his point and enthusiasm.  

 

“Very well, Thranduil.” Again, Thingol turned his head to look at the thief, who appeared no less shocked by these turn of events. “You are pardoned of your charges, this time. I will arrange for a monetary value to be delivered to the merchants that brought complaints against you, and one delivered to your home to help your family until your first real payment.” 

 

“Thank you, my king, for your understanding and mercy.” 

 

“You will not find such things again if you are brought to my court for any further crimes.” 

 

The thief bowed, “Of course, I understand.”   

 

“Good. Your training starts today. Right now.” 

 

Taking his cue, Thranduil nearly leapt from his chair and quickly descended the steps that Thingol’s throne rested upon. With a final and deep bow to Thingol, the thief scampered after Thranduil and out of the throne room. 

 

“So what is your name, then?” Thranduil asked, “Seems fitting I know it if I am to train you every day.” 

 

“Ferdan.” 







Chapter 53: Border

Chapter Text

(Small Authors Note that I accidentally deleted the first time i uploaded this lol: The two 'parts' go in reverse orders in time. The Italics tells the story of them going to the Border between Greenwood and Dol Guldur and the Non-Italics tell the story of them coming back from it. Its meant to be a bit disorienting)

 

0.0.0.0.0

 

He couldn’t look away. He couldn’t even blink. 

 

He wasn’t even aware he couldn’t do any of these things. 

 

All he could do was stare forward at the great wall of light and sensation that drew every part of his heart and soul in like some sort of everlasting dark hole. 

 

Heat blasted against his face, magic seemed to singe his skin. 

 

Thousands of colors in sparks and sensations exploded in front of him. More magic than he had ever felt at once. 

 

He couldn’t look away. 

 

The magic pulled him in. The beauty was a vortex. 

 

The hate was just beyond that.

 

Waiting for him to step beyond that barrier. Into its arms. Into his unknown. 

 

It whispered. 

 

Something pulled at his chest. 

 

0.0.0.0  

 

The rope that Avaleina tied around his waist and chest was so secure it walked the borderline of being painful. Around him, Legolas tied a similarly tight rope around Elladan and Farlen to Radagast. If the wizard allowed it, Elrohir supposed he wouldn’t argue with the percolations.

 

They had asked to come along, after all. Insisted on it, actually. Their curiosity of the phenomena of being ‘Border drunk’ was too enticing for them.  They had left Estel at the stronghold, at everyone’s immediate insistence. 

 

Avaleina checked the knots again, and Elrohir asked, “Is it really going to be that bad?” 

 

“Yes.” Legolas, Farlen, and Avaleina answered as one. Lord Ferdan remained silent. 

 

Elrohir swallowed and exchanged a look with his twin. Perhaps their curiosity would finally be the end of them. 

 

Lord Ferdan broke the silence, as he finished dipping all his arrows in poison, “Thranduil won’t let us get lost.” 

 

0.0.0.0

 

He never did ever remember the minutes of leaving the border between Greenwood and Dol Guldur or starting the journey away from it. He never remembered the last few minutes before he reached the border either. 

 

He vaguely remembered stumbling away. Tipping over a root. 

 

A lingering whisper in his mind, but he couldn’t remember what it had said. His body could never forget how enticing it had been.

 

He remembered Avaleina’s hand in his, pulling him along. Part of him remembered that he couldn’t hear anything. Most of him didn’t want to. 

 

His legs almost weren’t his own. 

 

He didn’t remember what came after

 

0.0.0.0.0. 

 

They had stopped outside some invisible line. Elrohir could feel it pulling at him like some sort of giant magnet. The forest ahead of them seemed almost deadly silent. 

 

It probably was. 

 

Most of the patrol that had come with them stayed behind now, only the seven of them would go on. 

 

“Whoever forgets the most, buys the first round once we wake up,” Legolas announced, offering a hand, “The Twin’s don’t count. They wouldn’t stand a chance.” 

 

Handshakes were exchanged between the Greenwood warriors going forward; the twins couldn’t help but just look forward to the trees stretching out ahead. As various ‘deal’ was muttered by those participating. 

 

“The second place buys breakfast tomorrow so we aren’t sick. Including a cup of wine.” Farlen specified, and there were more sounds of general agreements. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.

 

Air and sound struggled back into his mind. Everything seemed to be going three times faster than him, while his mind went two times slower than normal. 

 

The forest and the ground passed in a dazed blur, the world around him and the voices that surrounded him blended togeather.

 

His legs moved without him. 

 

Had they gone to the border yet?” 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.

 

No part of him could remember the last time he heard a noise. A voice. A sound of any kind. 

 

He just felt the pull of Avaleina’s hand on his. Vaguely he registered she still had a weapon in hand. 

 

He didn’t have one in his, maybe he had dropped it? 

 

He didn’t remember what he had dropped. 

 

He couldn’t hear anything. 

 

Something pulled him in, but a hand kept a strong grip on him, pulling him away. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.

 

Color and sound and light slammed back into him like he had been asleep for days, or underwater against his will. 

 

He gasped and blinked and jerked with surprise. There was still a rope around his middle. 

 

His brain felt like it had been removed from his body and shaken thoroughly. Perhaps beaten against a tree. 

 

No part of his mind could even begin to put the pieces together of how he had gotten here. It felt like it had been twenty years since anything had made sense. 

 

He tripped over something, maybe a root? 

 

0.0.0.0.

 

He seemed to float the last distance to the border. 

 

What a beautiful sight, awash with colors and power. 

 

Unique and deadly. 

 

The kind of sight no eyes were meant to see once, and especially not twice. And probably not remember. 

 

Radagast gathered a plant near his feet. Elrohir couldn’t remember why he needed to do that. 

 

His eyes burned with the force of magic and emotion and power. 

 

He couldn’t blink. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.. 

 

He woke in a bed, safe within the halls of Greenwood. In what appeared to be the healer’s ward. The sensations that assaulted him were worse than any handover Elorhir had ever experienced. He tried to think back to the last thing he could clearly remember. 

 

It was sitting around the fire discussing what would likely happen to him after going near the border between Greenwood and Dol Guldur. He could vaguely recall a warning about disorientation and memory loss. They had guessed he would sleep for several days after returning; he and Elladan had just assumed they were exaggerating.

 

There had been something about a rope. 

 

Everything was too hard to get in the right over, all his memories seemed fabricated or horribly patchy. They flickered in and out of his mind like a candle flirting with the wind. 

 

 Nothing made sense. It was all just a jumbled mess. 

 

“Ah, good morning.” A pleasant voice said above him, undoubtedly Legolas, “It is a good thing we did not include you or Elladan in our bet for we never would have had our first round, nor our breakfast the next day. A week is a very long time to wait for breakfast.” 

 

“I’ve been asleep for a week?” Elrohir demanded, to the protest of his throbbing headache. 

 

“We warned you about the effect of being Border Drunk but you didn’t believe us, not my fault.” 

 

0.0.0.0.0.

Chapter 54: Protect

Chapter Text

Celebrian kissed Elrond on the cheek and released his hand, “I’ll be right back.” 

 

He smiled at her knowingly, probably already guessing exactly where she was going to go and for what reason. Because of Elrond understood her, her personality, her large heart, and her thought processes. It was nice to be known like that. “He’s been there for several hours, hasn’t said a word to anyone. Not even if they say something directly to him.” 

 

She kissed his cheek again because she loved him and she felt like it, “Luckily, I’m not just anyone. He could never ignore me,” She paused before correcting herself, because if there was anything she had learned from him or about him, was that he could do whatever he liked, “He would never ignore me.” 

 

With that she stood and practically skipped across the hall of fire, coming to stand next to Ferdan who lingered by the window, bumping her hip gently against his in a playful manner when he didn’t smile at her or say hello. 

 

“Can I help you?” He asked her mildly, moving his attention from where it had been trained outside the window.  

 

“Yes, you can tell me why you’re sitting here and brooding all alone when everybody else is having fun.” 

 

Not missing a beat he replied, “I find brooding to be a more solo activity.”  

 

“So why don’t you stop brooding and join a group activity?” 

 

“I’m pretty committed to this window for now. Before you came, that raven and I were having a staring contest. I kept winning but it always wanted a rematch.” 

 

“A noble pursuit of your time.” 

 

“I’m glad you agree.” 

 

She bumped her hip against his again, smiling widely when he did it back. Ignoring the not so secretive stares from some of those in attendance within the hall of fire; at least Elrond had always gifted with subtle people-watching skills. But that didn’t mean Celebrian didn’t know he was watching just as closely as half of the room. 

 

The dragon fire burns which Ferdan had always put less effort into hiding than Thranduil cast a few small flickering shadows across his face and neck in the firelight. Making them all the more noticeable. It made him look even meaner and more fierce than he had before. 

 

And she had been informed that most people had already found him to be downright terrifying at the best of times. But then, they also told her that Thranduil was terrifying. They tended to stare whenever she talked happily with him, too. 

 

Ferdan growled, sending a few scalding glares to the more obvious onlookers. He wasn’t one for crowds to begin with, but especially not crowds he was more than aware were judging him and his friends closely. 

 

Celebrian tucked her arm into his, in an effort to placate him before he said something but also to help make him feel like he wasn’t so alone in this room full of people, “This is the first time I’ve seen you in here since you arrived near three weeks ago, I assume that it's not because the urge finally struck you to be social?” 

 

“What gave it away?” 

 

“Then why are you here? Why have you been leaning against this window for the last three hours in complete misery?” 

 

“Is there any other way to stare out a window?” He answered his own question before she had the chance, “Longing perhaps. Mournfully. Wistfully -- Even though I’m fairly certain that only happens in books.” 

 

“Can you please answer my question?” 

 

“Can I? Yes, absolutely. Will I, however, is another question entirely,” Celebrian rolled her eyes and groaned at him, and he bumped his hip against hers, “I’m just teasing. I’m here because Legolas wanted to come to listen to the stories.” 

 

 She briefly searched the room until she found where Legolas still sat next to Arwen, both snuggled happily under a blanket. Glorfindel, who had long ago stolen the elfing’s attention away from the drawn-out ballads and into far more lively stories continued to weave a vivid verbal tapestry for them. The three seemed largely unaware there was a room of other people around them. 

 

She knew and understood why Thranduil was so protective of his son, but he had left him in the care of (very specific) Imladris residents for short periods of time before. Legolas being still, calm, and unmoving seemed the best time as any for others to be in charge of his care. And yet, it seemed Thranduil and Ferdan did not agree with that sentiment. 

 

“And you need to be standing here the entire time?” 

 

He nodded, once. “In case he needs me.” 

 

 “Needs you for what? I’m sure any of us here could help him get what he needs, and if not, we can fetch you or Thranduil. You can go relax somewhere that doesn’t make you want to pull your hair out.” 

 

Ferdan shook his head firmly, his voice managed to be even firmer, “No. I stay here.”

 

It was a firmer tone than he had ever used on her before, and Celebrian almost visibly recoiled from it. He must have sensed this and found some regrets for it because Ferdan continued in a softer voice, “Legolas doesn’t like fire.”

 

Celebrian laid her head against his shoulder in silent sympathy at his heartbroken tone, "Sometimes his love for stories will outweigh the dislike, doesn’t mean that’ll last the night. I'm here in case he needs me to protect him. I’ll always be here in case he needs me to protect him.” 

 

   0.0.0.0.0.0..0. 

(Many, many years later.) 

There were a few loud pops accompanied bursts towering flames to add drama to the story being told, and Celebrian noticed Legolas jump, just a little bit. Subtle enough most of those around him didn’t notice. But she did.

 

And she wasn't the only one. 

 

There was a small whistle, low and soft enough to not disturb the performance or distract the audience but loud enough that Legolas would hear it. 

 

Celebrian watched as Legolas discretely excused himself, weaving through the crowd with more stealth than a shadow and taking the path strategically farthest away from most of the fires. He slid across the far wall until he stood next to Ferdan, nearly as tall as him now. 

 

Subtly, Legolas leaned his entire left side into the older elf. Even more subtly Ferdan repositioned an arm so that it came around the younger's shoulder idly rubbing a hand up and down in comfort. 

 

Ferdan asked him something, accompanied by a slight gesture towards the door with his chin but Legolas just shook his head, eyes still on the storyteller. A ghost of a smile touched the older elfs lips and he rested his head lightly against Legolas' own. 

  

The two remained that way until the end of the story, and then Celebrian watched at the two of them carefully wound their way towards the doorway back into the hall. She didn’t miss the incredibly strategic maneuvering on Ferdan’s behalf to ensure he was always between the plethora of fireplaces and Legolas on their way out. 

 

Chapter 55: Alright

Chapter Text

Warning. 

I cried writing this, you might cry reading it. So like, you’ve been warned. 

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( Thranduil's horse's name:    Nagorn - To bite)

(Oropher Horse's name is:  Laergul -- Wind Spirit)

 

 

Oropher could not remember any time he had crossed the city as quickly before in his entire life, but he had taken his son’s preferred route along the rooftops, leaping across gaps and only descending to the streets when he absolutely had to.  Although he had seen Thranduil do this many times before, and was certain his son probably no longer ever needed to descend to the streets. 

 

He leaped from the roof of a house and onto the top of the stables, down the length of them and next to the city gate. Ignoring a few hesitant about shocked questions of, “My Lord Oropher?” 

 

Oropher only had eyes and attention for the guard, to his dismay, “Which way did he go?”

 

“Left, that’s all I know.” 

 

He didn’t have to ask before somebody put the reins of his horse, Laergul, in his hands. Quickly he mounted and didn’t have to tell her to be swift as she went charging out the gates with all the speed she could possibly muster. 

 

Oropher quickly caught sight of his runaway, and he urged his horse faster. 

 

Thranduil glanced back to see who was coming, and seeing his father, spurred his own horse into a gallop. But Oropher knew that Nagorn, Thranduil’s horse, had not been properly recently rested. Considering it had not spent even one night in the stable in the last two months. 

 

That was not to say Thranduil never returned home, he returned randomly for a few supplies and to send a message that he hadn’t died. He was gone before Oropher ever even got word he had returned home. He didn’t intend to let his son get away this time. 

 

As he expected, Nagorn soon began to slow his pace and so without hesitation Orpher tackled his beloved son out of his saddle and into the grass. 

 

Thranduil shoved him off angerly, face near red as an apple, “Are you insane?” 

 

Oropher climbed to his feet and prepared himself for the very real possibility of having to chase him down a second time, “No. Just very determined.” 

 

Thranduil went to turn and storm away, but Oropher interfered by grabbing the back of his shirt. He spun back and tried to knock off his father’s hand, but he held steadfast with his grip. “Let go of me,” Thranduil growled. 

 

“No.” 

 

He knew by the expression on Thranduil’s face that he was on the verge of losing his temper. Well and truly lose it, in the way that even he himself loathed to do. Contrary to what most seemed to think, it was a rare occurrence. 

 

And when it did occur, there were very few who could calm him down. None as well as Luthien. But Luthien was no longer singing among them on Arda, she had been taken through to the Halls of Mandos and this time she did not come back out.

 

 The day they got the news was the last time he had seen Thranduil. 

 

The nearby cluster of trees nearly cowered to feel the rage coming from Thranduil in all directions. The kind that didn’t appear unless there was an even deeper and more harrowing emotion stuffed underneath, like dirt under a rug. 

 

Greif under anger. 

 

“No. I will not let go.” Thranduil tried again to turn away, this time going to twist his father’s arm into a painful enough position it would force him to release the shirt. But Oropher was quicker than that, his free hand met Thradnuils and in seconds he twisted it behind his back painfully in the same move Thranduil was going to do.  

 

“Let me go!” Thranduil shouted. Screamed, nearly, “Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!”

 

He writhed in his father’s grip, twisting and turning with all of his might to try and get him to release his arm. The only reason the attempts were successful was that Oropher feared Thranduil might actually dislocate his own shoulder in the process. 

 

So he let go, but prepared to make another grasp or tackle at him if need be, “I’m not letting you run away from it anymore, Thranduil.”

 

“Stop touching me and  leave me alone!” Then with much more force and speed than even Orpher expected, Thranduil shoved him solidly in the chest. Hard enough his feet left the ground and he slammed into the earth on his back, skidding back several feet when he landed.

 

He probably looked as surprised as he felt. 

 

Thranduil seemed surprised by it too because he froze in place like a spell was cast on him. Oropher watched as his face went from red to an unhealthy pale white tone, “Ada…. I didn’t mean to...” 

 

And just like that, the bubble of anger burst. And all that was left was that was what had been hidden underneath 

 

Oropher got back to his feet quicker than he had done the first time, “It’s alright, Thranduil.” 

 

Thranduil still stood stock still in front of him, the only movement was the slight tremble that suddenly took over his body. So Oropher moved towards him instead, one hand coming to Thranduil’s side while the other rested on his shoulder. “It’s alright.” 

 

Thranduil blinked once, and suddenly a near endless stream of tears rushed out of eyes, “No, Ada. It’s not alright. Nothing is alright. I’m not alright. She’s not alright. She’s not here anymore. She’ll never be here anymore-”

 

Automatically Oropher pulled his son against him, as tight as he dared without fear of hurting him, “I know. I know you’re not alright. I know nothing is alright. I know” 

 

Thranduil’s knees gave out beneath him, thankfully Oropher had a tight enough hold to lower them somewhat gracefully back to the grass. This time his body was shaking with soundless sobs, he continued to collapse forward until his chest was pressed against his knees. 

 

Oropher managed to maintain a grip on his son’s shoulders as he knelt beside him, his chest pressed against Thranduil’s back. “I know it’s not alright. I know it feels like nothing is ever going to be alright again. But you have to understand, my dear, sweet son, that’s alright. It’s alright to feel that way.” 

 

Thranduil continued to sob uncontrollably, pieces of his broken heart spilling out with every anguished sound. If Orpher could have ripped out his own heart at that moment given to him, he gladly would have. Anything to ease this pain. 

 

Anything. 

 

“Do you want me to let go?” 

 

Surprisingly Thranduil managed a few words, “Please don’t. Let go. Of me.” 

 

“Alright.”  

 

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Did you need a tissue?

Chapter 56: Introduction

Chapter Text

Warning, this one gets like, pretty angsty.. In an introspective kind of way

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Legolas stared at the paper in front of him, wishing he was anywhere but there, doing anything but pointless translation exercises into Westron by writing ‘an honest introduction’. He hated that some sort of writing exercise was mandatory for any traveling to Imladris  He hated this and everybody who had brought him to this moment. 

 

“Legolas.” Ferdan snapped. 

 

He took a deep breath and started writing before the weapons master marched over. 

 

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An Honest Introduction, 

 

I firstly feel obliged to inform you I’m writing this under duress, but nonetheless I shall continue because my ears just stopped ringing from this morning and frankly I don’t care experience it again. 

 

Also, I get to burn this after.

 

My name is Legolas Thranduillion, I’m the crowned prince and only child of my father King Thranduil, last Elvenking east of the sea. I’m a captain in my father’s army, and am apart of a specialized patrol. I’ve been fighting an endless war for so many years that I purposefully lost count on any specifics. 

 

My father raised me to be a good, wise, and caring person. I think I used to be all of those things, but sometimes as of late, I feel like I’m only a poor imitation. I’m not sure how I can translate all of my action of all these past years, and call them good. 

 

I’m not sure how all of my days can be filled killing, hunting, running, and hurting and call any of it good. I’m not sure how I can remember all the names that were lost to us on my orders, how many of them died in my arms and call myself wise. I’m not sure how I can force myself not to feel just to keep going, and call myself caring. 

 

And then I try to remind myself that it is only the darkness talking. Whispering, as it does, endlessly at the backs of our minds. I try to ignore it, sometimes I can. Sometimes I can’t. 

 

But I keep doing what I know I need to do for my people, no matter what it says to me. What it does to me. 

 

I remind myself of how much I love to draw and paint and dance with my friends. I remind myself of the stars and the birds and the forest around me I remind myself that my father, Galion, Uncle Ferdan, Avaleina, Farlen and many other friends love me very much.

 

 I remember that we are only defending ourselves, against an evil that will not stop until we are gone. 

 

I would rather me suffer these fates, and my hands do these deeds than for the responsibility to fall to another. Because until either every last one of us is dead, or the darkness is vanquished there will always need to be another. 

 

I would rather that they remain a good, wise, and caring person than for me to come all this way and give up. 

 

I can survive being a shell for a while longer. 

 

My name is Legolas Thranduilion, and this is my honest introduction: I know I can be good again, someday, but I’m trying my best until then. 

 

0..0.0.0.0.

 

He stood from the table the moment it was finished, showing Ferdan from across the room for hardly a second to prove it as in Westron and of sufficient length before he balled it up. With perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm he threw it in the fire.

 

Without looking back at anybody else who was writing in the same room he walked out and into the hall. 

 

    



Chapter 57: Flee

Chapter Text

He was running as fast as his little legs could carry him, fully aware that his pursuer was hot on his heels. But he was small, and fear was far more motivating than anger.

If he could just manage to get down two more flights of stairs he might be close enough for his father to help him, and if not his father than perhaps Galion. If he could get to his father he would be safe, if he could get to his father it would all be okay.

In a desperate attempt to keep ahead, Legolas forsake the winding pathway he had been on and climbed onto the wall. Exactly like he had been told not to do nearly every single day since he could walk.

Making use of the incredibly open structure near the center of the mountain and he quickly managed to scramble down the two flights, something the librarian would probably never do.

For the first time in his young life, Legolas was glad his father seemed to have a supernatural power to sense when he was doing something wrong and yell at him for it.

"Legolas, what is it you think you are doing?"

Ignoring his father's demand, Legolas finished scrambling down the wall and dashed over to his father, "Ada please help, I spilled ink in the library-"

The sound of footsteps echoed down the from the stairs, and Legolas turned giant pleading eyes to his father. It was no secret the bone-chilling fear the head librarian struck into the elflings bone, it was a secret however that Thranduil had had a very similar fear in his own childhood.

Without thinking, the King snatched his son and hid him behind himself in the folds of his long robe, resting a hand over the tiny mouth to ensure silence.

Thranduil held up the papers in his hands and made a good show of being oblivious to his surroundings, just in time for the irate librarian to come charging down the last flight of stairs two at a time.

"My king, I don't suppose you have seen any elflings running this way? Somebody spilled ink all over one of my books and took off running."

"You think any elfling up to mischief would come running towards where I am known to be? No matter how many times we have tried to tell the otherwise the elflings tend to scale the walls, perhaps they went upwards."

The ancient librarian stared at Thranduil for a very, very long moment, "An elfling up to mischief would come running to you if it was your elfling, my king."

Legolas almost squirmed in his hiding place, but his father's hand kept him still, "You are correct, that is exactly something my elfling would do. However he has somehow convinced Galion to let him accompany him for the day, and I have just sent them both away with much to do."

The other elf narrowed his eyes in open suspicion but saw no room for an argument. Yet. "Of course, my king. I shall check upstairs then."

And with that, he was off searching once more, probably for Galion instead of another elfling.

Thranduil held absolutely still until he was certain they were alone again and then finally released the grip over Legolas' mouth. Motioning him to remain silent, the king took his son's hand and led him down the hallway and into his study where Galion was busy working.

"If anybody asks Legolas has been with you all day."

The attendant didn't even try to hide his grin, "Ohhhh, and what have you been up to today little prince?"

Legolas chewed gently on his lower lip, "I spilled ink in a book that wasn't mine. It was by accident! I didn't mean to!"

"Again?" Galion laughed, and Legolas winced. There was a reason he feared the librarian so much, this was not the first mishap the tiny prince had been the culprit of.

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Thanks for reading!

Chapter 58: Fungi

Chapter Text

“Excuse me?” A voice asked, calm and polite in every manner. Mereneth turned from the book she was transcribing to see who it was, shocked to find it was Prince Thranduil. After all the herbs and tea he had been given, she had been told that it seemed likely that he would not wake until tomorrow afternoon. 

 

Apparently not. 

 

“Yes?” 

 

“Could you get me a glass of water, please?” 

 

She almost tripped when she got out of the chair and moved to the table at the edge of the room, “Of course.” She didn’t pour it all the way to the top in case her hand trembled on her way back, she had never been so close to royalty before. 

 

By the time she turned back towards his bed, Prince Thranduil had managed to prop himself somewhat upright regardless of his broken ribs. She handed it to him, and he smiled in a manner that took all the breath from her lungs. 

 

She had never seen a smile like that, so open, honest, and pure. He took a sip before telling her, “Thank you.” 

 

“Of course, my Prince. Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

 

“No, thank you, that’s it.” She nodded to him and turned away, trying to ignore the disappointment that suddenly appeared in her heart. Mereneth wasn’t expecting him to speak to her again, “Unless…” 

 

She turned back around to face him, unable to help the smile she felt touch her face, “Yes?” 

 

“Unless you want to tell me about that book you’re so interested in?” 

 

“My book? Uhm,” She glanced back to her desk where the only candle in the room was still burning, “It’s about medical plants and their many uses and how to prepare them.” 

 

He smiled again, and for a moment she could have sworn it was brighter than the candle, “Sounds very interesting.” 

 

“Really? Because it isn’t.” 

 

“I think anything would be interesting if you were the one to tell me about it.” 

 

It felt as if her face was actually on fire with the power of the blush the words brought, “What if I told you about the next book, which is about on what animal dung to find specific fungi?” 

 

“I would still be riveted.”

 

Mereneth’s heart was pounding so hard in her chest that she was certain he would be able to hear it, “Well, if you want me to tell you about my fungi book, then you will have to tell me what you did to bring yourself here?” 

 

“The story isn’t as interesting as fungi.” 

 

“I think anything would be interesting if you were the one to tell me about it.” 

 

She could have sworn she saw his turn scarlet in response, “Well, Ferdan and I were out in the forest minding our business when we noticed that there was some poor wolf stuck in the middle of the river. It had a good bite hold on some branches of a tree caught on a boulder.” 

 

Almost without noticing she did it, Mereneth slid into the chair at his bedside while he continued, “Ferdan told me not to do it. That the river was too deep with the runoff and I would get swept away into one of the great caverns the water flows into and smash myself on the rocks at the bottom. And that he would leave me there if it did happen.” 

 

 “And then?” She asked when he didn’t immediately continue. 

 

He laughed, and it was somehow so much better and brighter than his smile, “And then I went to get the wolf anyways. I managed gently toss it close enough to the shore that it made it out of the water right before the current took me and did exactly what Ferdan said it would do. He didn’t leave me at the bottom, though. But he did complain the entire time we struggled home.”  

 

She laughed with delight, and he smiled widely to hear it, “That was not exactly the heroic act I was expecting to have broken so many of your bones, Prince Thranduil.” 

 

“Just Thranduil, if you would,” He corrected gently. 

 

Mereneth nodded once as she said, “Thranduil.” 

 

His ears turned red when he heard her say it, “Do I get to know your name? Or do I get to learn about fungi from some nameless beauty I’m sure to think had to have been a dream when I wake up tomorrow.” 

 

“Mereneth,” She said, resisting the urge to fidget with her hair or with her hands.  

 

Thranduil smiled at her again, “I have never been so honored to meet somebody before this moment, Mereneth.” 

 

“I find that hard to believe.”

 

“So give me time to prove it to you.” 

 

 Mereneth logical part screamed that she couldn’t fall in love with the prince. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. But the emotional part of her took control of her mouth and said, “I suppose I could be convinced.” 

 

“Good, I’m glad,” Thranduil adjuted himself slightly on the pillows and fixed her with his full attention, “So, fungi?” 

 

The logical part of her mind continued to scream, the emotional part continued to ignore it, but as both parts eventually recognized the sun rising with the morning they knew nothing they did could change anything. 

 

Mereneth was so in love her mind was drowning in it. 

 

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I hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter 59: History

Chapter Text

The dust swirled gently in the afternoon sun, the only movement in the entire library. The only moment that had happened for some time, even though Thingol had found the book and page he so desperately sought near half an hour ago. 

 

With great force, and a trembling hand he turned the final page until the neatly handwritten title greeted him: Oropher & Thranduil Orophrion - After King Elu Thingol's death, and ransacking from the Darwves.  

 

He took a few more deep breaths and then forced himself to start reading.

 

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Prince Oropher of Doriath was one of the very few of King Elu Thingol’s kindred to survive the second attack upon the city of Menegroth. Little is known about his exploits during the battle but it is rumored that his son, Prince Thranduil Orphorion, was responsible for slaying one of the sons of Feanor when they sought and eventually succeded to destroy King Dior. 

 

According to stories, Oropher and his son both fled the city separately, and would not reunite for several weeks, each having collected an incredible amount of refugees from their city by that time. It is said that the forest of their homeland guided them back together and the reunion of the two groups was a merry one even the wake of their tragedy. 

 

It was under Oropher’s leadership and guidance that the remnants of the Kinslaying managed to flee to the city of Lindon, where they remained for a short time. 

 

Not long after their arrival, Prince Orpoher collected those of his people that wished to accompany him and left Lindon to travel eastwards. It is said that they came upon a group of Silvan Elves in a forest known as Greenwood the Great (it is unknown if they were aware of the Silvan presences in the forest and had gone there purposefully to be with them, or if it was an accident.) Oropher was crowned their King in S.A 750 and founded the kingdom of the Woodland Realm deep within the forest.  

 

Little is known about the happenings or occurrences within the forest or the kingdom. It is said that very few every visited the kingdom, and it was not often any left it. The only notable exception to this appears to be Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien, who was also a resident of Menegroth before its fall, and his daughter Lady Celebrian. 

 

Nothing was heard from King Oropher directly until he was called upon by High King Gil-Galad of the Noldor to join the other free people of Arda in their final battle against evil in the cursed lands of Mordor. It was during this battle on S.A 3434 that King Oropher was slain. (See chapter ten for more information on the War of the Last Alliance) 

 

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Thingol to stop reading for a second, the words had made him so dizzy he feared he might pass out. After a few steadying breaths, his desperate curiosity called him back to the pages. 

 

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His son, Prince Thranduil, survived the attack and took up the leadership of their people, the armies of Greenwood remained until after the Seige of Barad-Dur in S.A 3441. As the seven-year war drew to an end and it was time to lead their people home, over two-thirds of Greenwoods original force had been slain.

 

Upon his return to the Woodland Realm, Thranduil was quickly crowned King. Around the same time, Thranduil Ophorion married a Silvan elleth by the name of Mereneth and made her his queen. 

 

Exact dates are unknown but within a few centuries of his succession to the crown, King Thranduil and his Queen had a son who they named Legolas. Not long after his birth, their city was attacked by forces of evil and many of their people were killed. Among them was Queen Mereneth. 

 

Both King Thranduil and his son Prince Legolas survived, and they and their people came to inhabit a mountain and build a stronghold within it. They continued to have little contact with the other elven realms around them, but it is said they grew to have close working relationships with the towns of men near the borders of their forest. Some reports claim that King Thranduil also worked with several of the Avari clans, but no proof has yet been exhibited. 

 

During the course of the third age, the forest of Greenwood grew darker and fraught with hate and creatures of evil until eventually, it began to be known by those around it as Mirkwood.  Spiders the size of horses began to infest the woods while Orc and Warg packs did their best to cause as much trouble as possible. Their former capital of Amon Lanc become a fortress of evil known as Dul Guldur, from which all these creatures came. 

 

In T.A 2941 a group of dwarves led by Thorin son of Thrain and Mithrandir woke the fire drake Smaug which had come to inhabit a nearby mountain. Smaug burnt the nearby human village of Laketown to cinders and was slain by one of the residents. 

 

King Thranduil is said to have quickly sent help and supplies, along with a sizable army. After a brief siege of the mountain, King Thranduil’s force was attacked by a massive force of evil. What followed came to be known as the Battle of the Five Armies, one of them including the Great Eagles. (See chapter 13 for more information)

 

Both King Thranduil and Prince Legolas were present for the battle, and both survived, though many of their people were lost. 

 

Nothing more is known about Greenwood until Prince Legolas appeared in Rivendell for the council of Elrond in T.A 3018 to discuss the fate of the One Ring of Power. It was at this council that Prince Legolas volunteered to join the Fellowship of the Ring which sought to take the ring to Mordor and destroy it once at for all, of which he survived. (For more information about the Fellowship, please see chapter seventeen.)

 

King Thranduil fought the Battle Under the Tree’s during this time, which eventually ended with Dol Guldur being destroyed not long after the destruction of the One Ring. 

 

At the time of the completion of this book, King Thranduil remained the ruler of the now restored Greenwood the Great. 

 

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Thingol sat back in the chair again and could do nothing but blink for a few minutes in slow and careful contemplation of everything he had just read. Somehow not surprised in the slightest to discover that the only member of his family to crawl their way through the ages had been Thranduil, and shocked at the sheer enormity of change his nephew would have been forced to undergo to manage such a feat. 

 

He cast his eyes down the bookcases, wondering how many others might offer him scraps of information about the one’s he had loved so dear but left behind so long ago. 

 

But then he put those thoughts to the side and looked up what page number Legolas Thranduillion was on.

Chapter 60: Dumber

Chapter Text

Already out of breath Avaleina counted, “One, two, three, four, five, six-” 

 

She spun around, on the verge of frantic. She thought she had everyone. She thought - “Where’s Galdahon?” 

 

The others looked around. 

 

“The spiders…” Someone wondered out loud. 

 

Before any of them could get any more out, she was already running exactly the way they had come. 

 

“Ava no!” Someone screamed. 

 

She didn’t bother to leave the ground for the treetops, soon everything would be dead anyway. There would be no soul inside the bark to help her. 

 

She needed to be fast. She needed to reach him before they crossed the border. 

 

She needed to get him back before nothing could save him. 

 

She couldn’t hear a thing as she ran. Not her footsteps, or her heart, not even her ragged breathing. 

 

The only thing she could feel was the pull and the push of the border as she drew nearer to its volatile mix.

 

Over the hill, past the magical border between Thranduil’s power and Gol Dulrur’s power, she watched them disappear over the hill with Galdahon alive and in agony. 

 

An attempt was made at a deep breath, but her lungs might have done anything and Avaleina wouldn’t have been able to tell. 

 

She crashed through the barrier. 

 

It burned every inch of her, and felt like the coldest ice all at once. Like the sun had been put in half of her, and the void of space in the other. It took her heart, but made it so she didn’t need it. Nothing existed for a moment. 

 

And then she fell to the other side. 

 

Ringing and howling and laughing filled her mind. And it took her a second to realized she had collapsed to the ground. 

 

Another second to realize the howling and laughing was coming from an orc heading straight for her. 

 

With a numb body and mind, she managed to grab her bow and arrow, shooting him right between the eyes. He dropped. 

 

She still couldn’t hear the thud. 

 

The laughing continued, smug like it knew something she didn’t. This time difference,  this time in her heard. But it had been exactly like what had spilled out of the Orc. 

 

She shot the two others that were with him and then climbed up from where she had turned to kneel in the mud. Then the ran again. 

 

It still didn’t stop, and she could hear nothing else. 

 

She slipped twice on the hill, plastering her completely in mud. It didn’t slow her down. 

 

Avaleina crested it, and everything stopped. 

 

Galdahon was surrounded by spiders, circling, pushing each other to see he would eat him. 

 

The voice stopped laughing enough to ask, ‘Are you going to shoot him?’ 

 

It felt like everything stopped.  She pushed against him with everything inside of her mind, but the voice wouldn’t leave. They were on his land now. She was at his mercy. 

 

Soon everything would all be his land, his mercy. 

 

Go ahead, shoot him. Kill him. Do it.’ 

 

One of the spiders seemed to be winning, she wouldn’t be able to fight them all. She raised her bow. 

 

‘That’s right, right between the eyes. Like you did be for. Don’t be shy, I know you can do it.’ She could hear the sneer in the intentions of the words. She felt it. 

 

It was the only thing she felt. 

 

And then Galdahon screamed, and it was so full of terror and hopelessness that it chased away everything in her mind. 

 

Hands steady, she raised her bow and aimed. An apology her ears still would not let her hear slipped from her lips, and then she let go. 

 

Right between the eyes. 

 

She knew he was dead, and so she turned and ran. As that laughter filled her head again, “ Good job, little girl. Now run back to your King and cry about the abomination you’ve become.’ 

 

She ran back through the barrier, she didn’t even remember running down the hill towards it. 

 

Everything was hot and then cold and then there was nothing at all. 

 

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The room almost stopped spinning long enough for her to tell where she was. Almost. 

 

“Of all the stupid and useless things my warriors have pulled over the years, this has got to be one of the worst, Avaleina!” Judging by the volume of Ferdan’s yelling, they weren’t in the healing ward. 

 

The bed was too comfortable to be her on.

 

Without her permission, or even a warning her body went to be sick lurched forward where there was suddenly a bowl under her face, and a hand holding her hair, only to find there was nothing left in her to come out. 

 

She collapsed back onto the pillows, eyes closed, “What about that time we lured a bunch of spiders with ourselves as bait in a little pit and set them on fire.”

 

A cold compress was gently placed on her forehead, but Ferdan’s voice was still stern, “No, this was still dumber.” 

 

“When we lied about visiting Beorn so could we hunt a pack of orcs?” Her voice sounded pathetic, even to her. 

 

“Dumber.” 

 

“Dumber than fighting a dragon?” 

 

She heard him stifle a snort, as a few covers were adjusted, “We were not talking about me, were we? Now go to sleep. You’ve been awake for a minute and a half, and you’re already annoying me.”

Chapter 61: Sanctuary

Chapter Text

I wanted to see if I could manage to use no names or anything.

Everything him about as worn and tired as the night around him felt. His feet heavier than lead, and his heart even heavier than that. Not even the twinkle of the stars or the idea of sleeping in his own bed for the first time in weeks could manage to raise his spirits even an inch.

The ache that had settled its hold on his soul days ago remained undisturbed as he managed to force his weary arm to push the room open. And any that could possibly help him were hundreds of miles away, or so busy he would never dare distribute them.

With a sigh he carelessly he tossed his cloak and weapons on the couch of the small sitting room and left his boots next to his door. On the way to his dark and cold bedroom, he managed to strip off most of his many layers until he was left only with the undershirt and pants at the bottom.

Rubbing one hand across his tired eyes, the other opened the door.

When his eyes opened again, he was surprised that instead of finding his dark and empty bedroom it glowed with the soft, gentle, and welcoming light of a dozen candles and a merrily crackling fire.

His feet stopped walking without him noticing and the door clicked closed behind him of its own accord, the small towel that had been used to conceal the light from under the doorway stayed where it had been pushed.

She stood looking even softer than all the candlelight in the world could ever muster collectively, and when she smiled at him, she glowed brighter too.

It was the best thing he had seen in near four months, which coincidentally, was also the last time he saw her, "You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be on the eastern border."

"I can go," She teased lightly even she slowly came towards him, gesturing lightly with her hand, "If that would make you happy. I can go pack my bags right now, and go all the way back to the eastern border tonight."

He frowned with exaggeration at her, "That isn't what I meant. That could never possibly be, in any world, what I meant."

Taking a step forward he caught her wrist that had been gesturing and pulled her closer until he could kiss the palm of her hand before he let it go, "I could never, not even in anybody's wildest dreams, possibly tell or wish you to be farther away from me than you had to be."

"Never?" She almost hummed, coming to stand so close they were almost touching.

He shooked his head, "Never."

On her tip-toes, she met him halfway for the kiss, arms coming to circle his neck in natural reflex. It was so soft. sweet. and loving that his brain didn't quite know what to do even after she was back on flat feet. His entire body hummed with the familiar warmth his soul got only when it was around hers, the one glowing feeling she must have managed to bottle from the sun itself.

When his brain stalled for a few moments too long, she pulled hesd down to rest on her shoulder just next to her neck. His arms melted around her waist and closed his eyes into the unique and absolute security found only in her arms.

"I missed you so much."

He felt more than heard her laugh, "Good, you should."

Had their height differences not had him bend at such an angle, it seemed incredibly possible he could have fallen asleep there for several days. Perhaps weeks.

His arms loosened only long enough for him to bend slightly for a different hold and then so he could lift her with ease. As she felt her feet begin to leave the ground, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck likewise tightened.

When they reached the bed she loosened her hold in preparation to get down, so without warning, he tossed her onto the far end of the bed. Laughing at her small gasp of surprise, and then dodging the pillow she threw at his head.

Picking it up he threw it back at her and then slid into the bed, right in time to get another pillow in the face. She laughed with wicked triumph and then laid down in the bed. Leaning over, he blew a raspberry on her cheek, then her jaw, and finally the spot in her neck he had buried his face earlier.

She laughed with sincere openness and then reached a hand up to his face like she was trying to be certain he was really there, "I missed you so much."

With a contented hum, he laid down so that his ear was almost directly above her heart and tangled his legs with hers, "Good, you should."

Gentle hands began undoing all the braids then set themselves to very gently work the knots out of his hair. Then for perhaps nearly an hour, they laid in silence, her hands slowly rubbing up and down his back.

Kissing his head she whispered quietly into the golden light, "You did everything you could."

Her hands kept their soothing rhythmic pattern even when he took a few quicker breathes, "It wasn't enough."

"Perhaps this time," he had yet to figure out how just the sound of her voice when it was meant for only him to hear could turn every bone in his body to honey, "But you are always enough."

He closed his eyes without noticing, as warm hands and reassuring heartbeat scraped every dot of cold for his soul.

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Hope you liked it!

Chapter 62: Smart

Chapter Text

“He’s already reading?” The elf asked nobody in particular, shock evident in his face and voice.

Thranduil looked up from his book before either of his parents could answer, “Yes, he’s already reading,” Before returning to the pages.

After the laughter died down, the same elf said to Oropher, “That’s going to be your problem, Oropher. Thranduil going to be too smart for you.”

Oropher sighed heavily in response as the others got into another round of laughter, “Aye, probably. Eru help me.”

0.0.0.0.0

Oropher threw himself down to sit on the edge of the bed next to his wife, Muinthel, and sighed dramatically. She looked up from her book with laughter already in her eyes, “What did our son do now?”

“It's not what he did now, the dawning realization that I’m out of ideas to keep him from sneaking out of the city.” Oropher had no other ideas than the ones he had tired, and none of them had been successful for long. “He’s too smart for me, I won't win. And the embarrassment of losing so many times is mounting.”

“Where there’s a will there’s a way, especially when it is Thranduil’s will. “She closed her book and sat upright in bed, throwing her legs across Oropher’s lap so that she could lay her head sympathetically upon his shoulder, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make a compromise.” Oropher admitted bitterly.

0.0.0.0.0.

Celeborn’s stomach refused to acknowledge its own existence as he came to terms with the words the messenger had brought: Meneingroth had fallen, once and for all.

“Do they know who made it out?”

“Only Elwing and Prince Oropher. Dior and Nimloth are dead. The twins are missing, stolen by the servants of Celegorm.”

“And Thranduil?”

The messenger shook his head, “Nothing is yet known about his fate. He’s been presumed to have been trapped within the city and killed.”

Galadriel took his hand, and the messenger scuttled away. “You don’t think he’s dead.”

“No.” Celeborn agreed, “I do not. Nothing could have trapped him in that city, nothing. Thranduil didn’t die, he’s too smart for that.”

0.0.0.0

“King Oropher is dead?” Elrond asked, somehow shocked that Mandos found the courage and audacity to demand such a thing from such a formidable elf. Even if they stood on the scorched earth of Mordor. “Huh.”

Glorfindel continued without being asked, “Thranduil is leading Greenwood’s forces now, choose him until they can have an election at home.”

“Thranduil?” Elrond found himself asking again, trying to piece the small slips of knowledge he had of the Prince into the picture of some sort of battle master. They didn’t fit. He looked back to Glorfindel, “You don’t look concerned, are you not concerned?”

Glorfindel shrugged, “Not really. Thranduil is smart. Certainly smart enough to learn from his father's mistakes and to listen to the advice of others. I think the Greenwood choose wisely.”

0.0.0.0.

 

“Are you sure allying yourself so closely with an already troubled kingdom is such a wise decision, Radagast?” Saruman asked, his dislike of the idea only slightly more obvious than his dislike for the other wizard.

Who seemed oblivious to both, “This is the right choice, I know it is. I knew even before the trees and the birds and the lizards told me it was. Before the Lady Yavanna admitted her fondness of them. King Thranduil is smart, and he is good. I have no regrets.”

0.0.0.

Even if his master did not have a body, the Orc could sense his rippling rage, the voice in its head was cruel with disappointment, I should not be surprised you failed. Away, before I feed you to something of more worth to me. Like a worm.

The walls of Dol Guldur hummed with thought. Before another orc opened his mouth, the voice cut him off, I do not want to hear such stupidity again. I do not care what has worked on Elves in the past. This is not any elf, this is King Thranduil.”

This time the walls shook with rage, King Thranduil it too smart for any plan other than one of my own. A worthy opponent, which is why he needs to go.”

0.0.0.0.0.0.

 

“You know, the odd’s aren't as bad as you’ve led yourself to believe. Legolas could-” But Galion was interrupted.

“Legolas could what? Learn to fly? Somehow managed to show and arrow so far it blinds the Great Eye? Entangle himself so closely with the fate of the One Ring and avoid his black hole of a destiny?” Thranduil snapped, back still turned to the entire room and face staring out the window.

Every bone and muscle in his body was more rigid than stone, and Galion hated to see it. He thought about another approach, when Thranduil said again, “If all you have is comforting lies than I have no want or need to see you right now.”

With a very small chuckle Galion stepped up to stand next to his King at the window, “You’re too smart for your own good sometimes, you know that?”

Thranduil glanced out the corner of his eyes, “It’s been mentioned once or twice.”

0.0.00.0.0..0.0.

Oropher finally closed the detailed history book that Thingol had found in preparation of his returning from the Halls of Mandos. All about the detailed plans, plots and silent fights that waged for centuries under the branches of Greenwood.

All the effort, magic, and cunning from their King that kept them all alive. All the tricks, outmaneuvering, and just plain old deep preparation Thranduil had planned. All the sleepless nights, heavy burdens, and endless thought and care.

He wiped a few tears before he looked up to Thingol, “Wow.”

“We always knew he was smart, I just never suspected he was smarter than the force of darkness that taunted even the Valar.”

Chapter 63: Magic

Chapter Text

"If you have a question, Gimli, then ask it because I'm growing weary of your skittish glances." Legolas yawned form where he laid on his back in the light of their campfire, admiring the stars. 

 

Gimli loudly sighed, but did as he was commanded, "Fine. What does it feel like to have Elven magic?" 

 

Legolas tilted his head to the side in the grass, like he was asking the very stars above him how to explain it. Finally he settled on, "I'm not sure. I don't really know what counts as magic and what counts a physical part of me. I don't know what makes my abilities different from yours.”

 

"Well, firstly, Dwarves don't have Elven magic." 

 

Legolas shrugged, "Technically the elves do not even have 'Elven Magic.' The Silvan have different practices than the Sindar, both of which are near alien to many Noldor." 

 

"You're impossible." Gimli grumbled, poking at the fire, "This is why I didn't ask." 

 

This time Legolas looked at him, and even if Gimli could hardly make out the elf's features he knew that Legolas could clearly make out his. Gknew if he could have sees Legolas’ face, if would probably be set for a challenge.

 

"What's it like to have Dwarven magic?" Legolas asked.

 

Gimli tried to keep his eyebrows from furrowing but he was rather sure they had betrayed him, "Dwarves don't have magic." 

 

Legolas sat up again, "I disagree, my dear friend. How can you tell what a metal want you to shape it to be? Or what temperature it prefers to be heated to? Hmm?" 

 

Gimli thought about it, "I don't know… I just… I just know what it wants." 

 

Legolas turned his eyes to his next victim, "Frodo, what is it like to have Hobbit magic? To move so silently that sometimes even elves do not notice you? The infectious goodwill?" 

 

Frodo shrugged, “Maybe the rest of you are just no good at sneaking, and it’s just practice.” 

 

“Perhapes.” Legolas agreed, eyes aglow, “Hard to tell what is magic and what is physically apart of you, isn’t it?” 

 

“But Legolas,” Pippin began from where he sat on a log between his cousins, “How do you know that you’re not the only one with magic? How do you know that we all have it?” 

 

Legolas laughed, that open lighted hearted sound that could shred even the thickest tension in the world to ribbons, “Thats easy, Master Pippin. Every creature made in the light has magic. Some sort of specific gift or quality that none other can offer the world, and each specific creature holds something even more specific to themselves. Eru left as all with with gifts before he departed.” 

 

“Do you believe that?” Aragorn asked, speaking for the first time in nearly two hours. 

 

Legolas looked up to him and a heavy moment fell between the two old friends that Gimli didn't quite understand before Legolas said, “I do. With my whole heart and everything in it.” 

 

The ranger cracked a tired smile, “That’s a lot of heart, I’m certain your heart contains at least half of Arda.” 

 

Legolas laughed, “Maybe it's my Elven Magic.” 

 

“No,” Aragorn brushed off, “If anything, it's your specific Legolas Magic.” 




Chapter 64: Acorn

Chapter Text

A child who lost everything sat on the doorstep of a house that is no longer there. Surrounded by the skeletal remains of the buildings and trees that had once been the lifeforce of her small remote village. 

 

Warmth still glowed from the forest around her, even if there were no longer any flames. Those had died out hours earlier. Before the night had come to render the waterhole her Uncle had stashed her in even colder than before, but she didn’t care to climb out while the heat from the fires still touched her face. 

 

Getting herself out had been difficult, normally the trees would have sent their roots to help her, but there were no trees left alive to help. She had known even then that she was the last of her village to survive, so there was no point in calling for help. 

 

The sun was climbing higher into the sky when her legs managed to make her stand up and start walking. Without looking back, she plunged headlong into the cinders of the forest that had once loved her. Not knowing which way to go, but hoping she had not chosen the wrong one. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0

 

It was nearing dark, and the shadows began to cast memories of monsters everywhere she looked. But she was alone, left with no help to combat them. So she did what her mother had always told her to do, just keep going forward. 

 

Even when the world seems set against it, go forward. 

 

But as the night grew darker, colder, and more lonely not even the memory of her mother’s encouraging advice could keep her going forward. All it did was remind her that she no longer had a mother. That she was alone. 

 

With fear and hopelessness, she curled up against the biggest trump of a charred tree she could find and tried to hide against it. Aware that her skin could attract unwanted eyes, she wiped the soot from her fallen friend over every piece of exposed skin. And then curled up against the cold and waited for morning. 

 

Or something worse. 

 

Whichever came first 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0

 

A rabbit mourning its burrow and its children slowly made its way through the forest under the cover of night. Inside its mouth was an acorn, an acorn she had been told must be delivered to the elves because it contained an important secret. 

 

She had just not expected to pick up the scent so far from where the elves had fled towards. 

 

The rabbit went towards it and found the smallest elf she had ever seen curled up against the trunk of a tree, shivering. Tentatively, she hopped towards it somehow understanding that this one was a child. 

 

She went closer until she could press herself against and gift her warmth. Eventually, the child stopped shivering. 

 

0.0.0.0.0. 

 

Step, hop, step, hop, step, hop. Their entire day consisted of stepping and hopping. This time though, the child held the acorn in her hand. This time, she did not wander alone in a directionless path but followed the guidance of the rabbit. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.

 

They both heard the sound of a growl at near the same moment. Both creatures froze, well aware of their position in the food chain. 

 

Before the warg go get a good look at them, the Rabbit took off towards them and darted between their legs. Biting an ankle as she fled, triggering its hunting instincts to follow the chase. 

 

The child’s flight instincts made her start running in the other direction before she had even processed a single thought of what was going on around her. She ran until her sides burned with the need for air, and the forest slowly began to turn green and lush around her once more. She just kept running. 

 

It was only when she tripped solidly on something and crashed to the ground, slicing her arm open on a particularly sharp rock embedded in the earth. 

 

It was only then, as she crawled back into a sitting position and felt her blood trickling into the dirt that she finally wept for all she had lost. Finally allowed herself to feel the devastation that had taken the place of her heart. 

 

For the loss of her new and only friend. 

 

0.0.0.0.0. 

 

On all fours, she crept closer to the sound of voices. 

 

Voices she thought were elvish, that she wanted to believe with all of her heart were elvish. The bushes allowed her to crawl noiselessly at their roots, even as the voices drew silent. She froze when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching her. 

 

 “Come on out now, you don’t have to be scared anymore.” Slowly, she peeked around the edge of a nearby tree to see who was trying to speak with her. A blond elf smiled with warmth and sincerity when he saw her, another with dark hair stood silent in the background, “It’s alright little one, you’re safe now. It looks like you hurt your arm, I can help you with that.” 

 

Cautiously, she took small steps forward. Ready to spring back into flight mode the moment the situation required it, but it didn’t feel like it would. She wanted to believe that she was safe. 

 

“Hello,” the blonde elf said, the smile remaining on his face, “Hello, what’s your name, little one?” 

 

“Avaleina.” She told him, her voice hard to use from disuse and charred from the smoke and ash. 

 

“That is a very pretty name. My name is Thranduil.” The blond elf introduced. 

 

“Hello.” She whispered in return. 

 

 “May I see your arm now?” She nodded so she would not have to speak again, and he reached out and undid the leaves she had managed to secure over the wound to get a better look at it, “Who taught you to do this?” 

 

“The trees. They watched people over here and told me how to do it over there.” 

 

“That is very clever of all of you,” He wrapped the leaves around her arm again, “But I think we need to go see one of my friends to take care of that, may I pick you up?” 

 

She nodded. 

 

Gentled and careful arms lifted her from the ground and had she had the energy or spare water she might have wept at the sheer relief such a feeling brought her. She relished in it the entire walk to Thranduil’s friend, and just as she was passed from one set of arms to another the remembered the Acron. 

 

“The forest gave it to me,” she pressed it into his hand and watched as his eyes immediately filled with tears, and his body nearly sprung with energy. 

 

It was not until days later that it was explained to her that the importance of the acorn to everybody else was that it contained the location of the missing prince of Greenwood. The one they had apparently been looking for since the same day her village had been burnt to ruins. 

 

The importance of the acorn to her specifically, though she did not know it yet, was that it allowed the sprout of her new family to begin growing.  

 

Chapter 65: Blink

Chapter Text

Thranduil && Mereneth 

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I close my eyes. 

 

Because I cannot handle seeing all the life leave my father’s eyes the same second I feel his soul leave my arms. 

 

I open them.  

 

That was hours ago, I think. There’s still so many Orc’s, there’s so much chaos. The kind of chaos that can only be unleashed by a specific kind of hatred. That’s fine. That’s all I have left inside of me anyways. 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

Because I can kill in my sleep as well as awake. So help me Eru, I will slit the throat of Mandos himself if he tries to take this victory from me. He can take me afterward, I don’t care. But I will live to see the end of this battle.   

 

I open my eyes. 

 

“It’s over,” somebody says to me. I turn away and back to my task, finding my people. My warriors. My friends. Anybody else who might need me. It wasn’t over until all that could be saved were saved, and that that couldn’t are dead. 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

I stand on a hill overlooking the devastation that lays before me. My father amongst them, somewhere. I thought I felt hollow the day I looked upon the ruins of Menegoth with so many of my friends still inside, but dully I realized I knew nothing then. At least I could be there for my father like I never could have been with my mother at her end.  

 

I open my eyes. 

 

Next thing I know three years have passed and the siege of the tower is over. I don’t care to remember what I have forgotten, except the ones that were lost coming on this death-filled war. A third of my people are left standing, or at the very least, breathing. 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

“I don’t care,” I say to Galion, who remains silent. “I don’t care who invited me to what.  I don’t care who took charge of what. Nobody cares, because everybody that cares is somewhere dead miles away. All I care about is going home, we need to go home.” 

 

I open my eyes. 

 

They told me that everybody survived the journey home from those cursed lands that I left with. I took their word for it. All I remember was seeing Merenth’s face when I crossed through the gates of our city. I never want to close my eyes again, because it is the only sight that might have made the last years of my life worth it. 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

0.0.0.0.0

 

I close my eyes. 

 

They told me that after I died my husband managed to find our son and return him to safety. That they were both safe, somehow, together. How I wished I could have been with them, but how glad I was that I had not taken our little Legolas with me to the halls. 

 

I open my eyes. 

 

Somebody had come to tell me information, current information about my Thranduil and Legolas. Lady Yavanna: ‘Legolas is good and kind, beloved by his people and his father alike. They find strength in one another, comfort and laughter. They will be alright, you can close your eyes. 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

Years or centuries or days pass by and I catch whispers of my husband and son’s voice in the air as they talk to me. Whisper prayers and longing love for me. As they cry out for me in pain or in freat deep in the night. My poor things. 

 

I open my eyes. 

 

They tell me that they have survived some great war, they tell me that my son has gone on some great and dangerous journey that has something to do with the same war that had brought my Thranuild back to me so broken from Mordor. How many years have they seen since I left them, I wonder? 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

I don’t know how long I waited in those halls. I just remember asking them not to release me too soon before my husband got to the shores of these lands. Because I didn’t know how to start doing this again without him. Be alive. Be a family. 

 

I open my eyes. 

 

The ground is fresh, and my skin is new. The scars on my soul and my skin are healed from the end of my old body. I am ready. I am ready to meet my family, I am ready to join them. Do right by them. 

 

I close my eyes. 

 

Because it took me longer than I thought it would find my son, for he had hidden so perfectly and peacefully amongst those he stayed with. He looked soo much like Thranduil I dared not to open my eyes, for fear my heart might shatter at the sight. He seemed to understand. 

 

I open my eyes.

 

I thought I had learned the feeling of longing when I had waited for Thranduil to come home from Mordor, but it didn’t come close to the feeling of waiting for his ship on the shoreline. Even the sight of the fleet alone was enough to make me cry, but the sight of his face when he jumped off the ship sent me to my knees in the sand. 

 

I closed my eyes. 

 

The next thing I knew, his arms were around me and his lips were pressing kiss after kiss to my face. I had not felt love and security than that last time I had closed my eyes on life beneath the canopy of our trees so long ago. I never wanted to forget the sight that went along with this feeling. 

 

I opened my eyes. 

0.0.0.

Thanks for reading!!

Would love to hear your thoughts. 

Chapter 66: Find

Chapter Text

“Legolas, is it alright if I ask you a few things?” Frodo asked, sure to say ‘few’ rather than ‘a question’ after learning that Leolgas always pointed out that technically counted as the question.

Carefully Legolas held his hand back out to a leaf where the large bug that had been crawling on his hands could call that surface home instead, “Certainly, Frodo.”

“Why do you not tell any stories about your home? Any at all?”

Slowly Legolas lifted the branch back into its relaxed position, and instead, immediately began to braid the blades of grass in front of him, “Many elves are used to repetition and watching the world turn in such familiar circles. So quickly do our lives turn in circles at home that even our kin grow weary of the concept.”

“You believe that your life at home is too repetitive to be heard?” Frodo asked with open curiosity.

Legolas thought about it while he undid the braid he had just finished, “Not that it should not be heard, just that perhaps it should only be told to certain people during certain times.”

Frodo pondered the response, “Whys that, though? If you don’t mind the questions.”

“Not at all,” Legolas answered with a smile and his fingers resuming the braid, “Repeptative news and stories of darkness will eventually weigh on even the lightest and most translucent of hearts if they cannot find the lesson.”

“Why not tell a happy story, then?”

“Every happy story is tinged with sadness, Frodo,” Legolas answered simply, “If there is no sadness then it is not a true story.”

Frodo could think of many memories that weren’t tinged with sadness. He must have looked as quizzical as he felt because Legolas said, “What memory had come to your mind?”

“Catching butterflies with my Uncle Bilbo soon after I moved in.” Legolas nodded but didn’t say anything. So Frodo prompted, “Well?”

“I didn’t think you would want me to potentially ruin a memory with my theory.”

“I’m good at learning lessons, and I think I would like to try and learn yours.”

Legolas smiled again and finished undoing the braid again and turned to face Frodo more fully, “Alright. You had just moved into Bilbo’s. Why did you move?”

Frodo swallowed when the answer came to him, “My parents died.”

Instead of a smile, this time Legolas gave him one full of deep sympathy, “One of the favorite things about my life is that my father and I are so close. But we are only this way because my mother was killed, and our city burned.”

“So what is the lesson then?” Frodo asked.

“The lesson, my dear hobbit friend.” Legolas said, taking Frodo’s hand gently, “The lesson is that no matter the dark that happens, there will always be a greater light beyond because of that darkness.”

Frodo found it equally hard to break or to not break eye contact with his elvish friend, “Do you believe that? Even with your forest so dark even with the sun?”

It was comforting that Legolas didn’t hesitate, “Yes. Even now we are given glorious lights because of it. Like our connectin to our forest, to each other, or habit of looking for good and light. And I’m sure that the lights that appear in our lives after this war will shine even brighter.”

The elf took his hand back and resumed braiding the grass. Frodo let him in comfortable silence while he thought about home, his life, his memories, his future. And hoped Legolas was doing the same

“Have you found light in all of your darkness, Legolas?”

His fingers didn’t still, hardly slowed, “Not all of it. Some of it I haven’t even glanced at, nor do I intend to. But if I wanted to, I’m certain I would be able to see the good in it eventually.”

There was something about being in the presence of Legolas that made it okay to say, something about his calm and comfortable understanding of everything. His easy and open face, with honest eyes. “There is a feeling starting to grow inside of me that says about to come would snuff out any light that I might find for it.”

“I have queen eyes and a stubborn soul, dear Frodo,” Legolas said, looking up from the grass to give him a warm and reassuring smile. “If you can’t find something to call light, I’m certain that I’ll be able to.”

Chapter 67: Title

Chapter Text

Oropher had worn the title of ‘The Woodland King’ like a cloak,something to be worn and lain overtop of himself. Definitely his, not to own but to command. But not apart of him. It never had been. Losing the title would be more of a mourned loss than a personally injury. 

When the title as applied to Oropher it seemed to almost stop time for a moment, suddenly and harshly. It was a weapon almost, one that you could not touch.

That did not mean he was not a good, wise, and fair king to his people. If he weren’t, they would elect somebody else to be their king. The woodland realm loved Oropher as their king, and at that point they had not yet come to realize there were other ways for somebody to be a ruler. 

Then Thranduil came back from the war without his father, and the Silvan elves could think of no other they might be willing to pass the crown and the throne too. 

Thranduil lived, breathed, and embodied the title of ‘The Woodland King’ in every single way that was possible for him to do so. He wore the title like it was not a title at all, but a name that the world had chosen for him to bear at the beginning of time but had not yet told anyone. 

When the title was applied to Thranduil it followed so easily with the rhythm of the forest that one might think that it had been designed around it. Or perhaps grown specifically just to sing it to the sky, the sun, and all things that grew. 

With every passing year more flowers stretched into the spring, yawning and blooming with their kings name on the tips of their petals. More easily it was to hear the bubbling of the streams and rivers laughing their praises and love for their king. More branches swayed with the rhythm of their kings breath, and stretched for the sunrise when their king sittered for the day. 

Thranduil did not wear the title of ‘The Woodland King’ or ‘King of the Woodland Realm’ because he was not a king of the realm, he was the realm. He was the laughter of the squirrels, the wildness of the unknown, the peace found only alone among the depths of trees. He was unpredictable, but hardly every cruel. He was the terror of the night and the comfort of fireflies.   

He did not rule the forest, he was an extension of it. Or perhaps the forest was an extension of him. It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that the forest that had waited endless years in anticipation of the one they knew would arise to connect them all with seamless grace. 

Oropher had worn the title of ‘The Woodland King’ as if it were a jacket that had been tailored specifically for somebody near his size, but not exactly. Close enough that it fit well enough not to cause problems, but off enough to know that this was not the exact fit to this particular puzzle.

It was just that nobody even knew it was a puzzle until Thranduil had come along and slipped seamlessly into the spot in the picture his father had only just barely managed to cram himself inside the space. 

Oropher had worn the title of ‘The Wood King’ like a title. Thranduil had appeared to embrace and absorb the name that had been created specifically for him.  

Chapter 68: White

Chapter Text

Avaleina felt the other elven rulers coming forward, felt the power of their rings bouncing off the ground. But crouched in the tree as she was, the same place she had been for the past ten or hours, they did not see or sense her. 

 

They practically walked right underneath the tree she and her patrol were spread out through. But Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond just kept on walking, unknowingly. Directly toward Dol Guldur. 

 

King Thranduil had ordered them to get as close to Dol Guldur as they dared, for as long as they dared to see if they could investigate why Mithrandir had gone to the fortress himself. Without so much as a whisper to the ‘ally’ kingdom that was directly beside it. 

 

Why he had sent the dwarves one way, while he went another. The idea that Mithrandir had somehow turned against them was naustating, yet Ava could not shake the feeling that was exactly what was happening. 

 

Why else send the dwarves as a distraction, while he slipped into the fortress without being noticed? Why else would Mithrandir come here immediately after returning from the High Fells? 

 

So far, it all added up to produce a very terrifying picture indeed.

 

How Avaleina hoped this wasn’t one of the worst ways she could possibly find out that somehow all the other powers of Arda had joined the one that ruled this evil fortress. How she forced herself not to hope that perhaps instead, no matter how unlikely it seemed, that somebody else was going to do something. 

 

Somebody else was going to help them in this endless fight, so that they would not be standing alone surrounded by so many powerful enemies. 

 

At this point, Avaleina would have been grateful for any assistance, even if it was only because one of the White Council's own was suddenly affected by this plaguing darkness. She wasn't gong to be particular about under what circumstances they received help, as long as they got it. 

 

But still, she could not let herself hope. She couldn’t.

 

Avaleina and two other scouts crawled through the branches of the tree’s and closer to the fortress themselves. Leaving the bulk of their small party behind, while they themselves tried to see if they could catch a glimpse or a clue of what might be transpiring above them.  

 

They were still waiting in the branches when a glowing ball of malevolent energy hurdled across the sky, knocking them down from the branches with the strongest physical touch they had ever felt. 

 

Around them, dried branches crashed to the ground and rocks slid down any sort of slope. Any natural creature that was unfortunate enough to be nearby went scattering in every single direction there was. 

 

Everything was rocked solidly in its foundation form the strength of the rippling force. As some of the hatred that had floated from above them lifted once more, Avaleina caught herself daring to hope. 

 

Hope that things were going to get better. Things were going to change. 

 

But then they felt the other powerful beings leaving even faster than they had arrived, not even glancing back at the forest as the forces of evil erupted into a rapid frenzy of anger and devastation. Foaming at the mouth with the toxic burning need for revenge. 

 

The elves could feel the orcs staggering with the choking realization that for the very first time since perhaps they were created, all the choices for these creatures of evil were their own to make. There were no rules to this game anymore, just the one that had been bred into their DNA.

 

Kill the elves. Kill the good. Snuff out the light. Cleanse the world of  their glowing light with their burning one. 

 

It was as Avaleina realized that the White Council was fleeing back to their safe havens, seemingly caring nothing for the repercussions or effects of any of their actions, that the she decided they got all of their light by leaving other places darker. 

 

Ava whispered a curse after them, quite enough that her own ears hadn’t even heard them, but it was out in the universe no less that if it had been screamed. She had let part of herself hope that things might get better, she should have expected they would be left worse off.

 

Then she and her patrol started running as fast as they physically could away from this rabid hate, and then just a little bit faster than that. 

 

0.0.0.0.

This was written for part of the ‘Avaleina and Tauriel’ meet story that i'm writing, but i haven't decided if it’s staying in there or not. But i really liked the passage soooooo This might be a sneak peak, this might not be. Nobody knows. 

Chapter 69: Mound

Chapter Text

A king sat on a hill.

Not a magnificine hill, not one with riches or other wonders buried beneath. It was not very high either, more of a mound than a hill, really. But it was still his favorite. In all the land that he ruled, this little mound - or hill - of dirt was his favorite.

Not just his favorite hill, but his favorite spot of all.

Many had asked why. Countless, actually. And not a single one of them had ever been satisfied with the answer that they got. Not even his own son. But that did not trouble the king, for in fact, nothing troubled the king when he was on his hill.

Or was it a mound.

Either way, it was his favorite spot simply because it was his favorite spot.

There were no fancy streams or rivers nearby, there was no good view or particularly foundational memory associated. He just came here to this hill that was also a mound and sat down, and he enjoyed his time there.

And had kept enjoying his time there.

He wasn’t too sure why that was not a satisfying answer, to like something simply because you liked it. Their confusion in response was equal parts amusing and similarly confusing to the king. He wondered how the rest of the people in the world got about choosing the things he liked.

The king could not help but wonder as he sat alone on his little mound in nowhere in particular, doing nothing in particular, if everybody else just led far more monumental lives than he had.

Maybe every single one of their favorite places or most liked things had some sort of equally monumental moment or reason attached to it. The entire idea seemed exhausting to him, and he was king so he liked to think that said something about the energy required for such a task.

But these were thoughts for another day, or another time. Or perhaps for never at all. Because he was too busy sitting on his little hill, that was also a mound, happy doing nothing in particular in nowhere in particular.

In his favorite place.

Chapter 70: Shine

Chapter Text

“Ada,” Legolas began while staring out the windows over his father’s shoulders as he was carried towards their bedroom, “How come the moon is so bright compared to the stars?” 

 

His father’s hand didn’t still as it continued to rub soothingly up and down his back, spreading warmth with every touch, “Well my little leaf, it is because the stars store all of the wishes, love, and memory that they cannot keep within them in the moon for safekeeping. So it glows brighter.” 

 

Legolas looked between the moon and the backdrop of stars behind it, “Oh wow. That’s a lot of wishes and memories.” 

 

“A lot has happened since the moon was created, there is much to remember.” 

 

He laid his head on his father’s shoulder and tried not to let the rhythmic steps and the soothing hand lull him to sleep, “But you have more to remember, right Ada? Because you were here before the moon?” 

 

Legolas felt the rumble in his chest more than heard his father laugh, “Although sometimes it does feel like it, I do not think I know more than the moon.” 

 

“Do you think anybody does?” 

 

“I can think of a few people who think that they do.” His father answered in a tone that Legolas had come to know meant there was some hidden meaning under the words he did not yet understand. Not yet. 

 

“What’s the first thing that you remember, Ada?” 

 

Again, he felt more than hears his father hum in thought as they turned down the final hallways to their room. “My Adar singing to me, I think. We were outside somewhere, and he was pacing up and down under the stars.” 

 

“Did your Ada have a nice voice?” 

 

Legolas waited patiently as his father exchanged pleasant greetings and goodnights with the guards that stood outside their doors, “Yes, one of the best I would say.” 

 

“Even better than Uncle Ferdan?” Legolas asked with disbelief, he had yet to hear any voice that could match his uncles. There was no other music he could ever want to listen to than his uncle. Never. 

 

“If not to my ears, then to my heart,” Thranduil answered, and Legolas snuggled closer feeling that familiar coldness creeping into his father’s Fae. “It has been such a long time since I have heard my Adar sing, especially to me. How my heart would rejoice to hear it again in anything but my memories.”

 

He wound his arms around his father’s neck for good measure as they entered Legolas’ bedroom to get him changed for sleeping, “He seemed to all but stop singing after we lost Menegroth, the habit only returned as a shadow when we settled in Greenwood.”

 

The solution seemed obvious to Legolas because it is what he would have done, “Why did you simply not ask him to sing to you? If you wanted him to?” 

 

Thranduil sighed as he gently pried Legolas off of him so that he could set him on top of the bed while he grabbed a pair of pajamas and brought them back, “Because my Adar and I did not have that sort of relationship. We were trying to, we were starting to right before the battle at Mordor. I almost asked him to sing to me on that last night, before the battle started, but I didn’t.” 

 

With a yawn, Legolas crawled under the covers while his father went to sit at the desk in his room and finish whatever it was that his father did at night. Laying on his back he looked back up into the night sky and wished to every single star that was in it, that they would ask the moon to share the memory of his grandfathers singing with his father while he slept. Periodically, if possible. 

 

Then he fell asleep. 

 

0.0.0.0.0.0.0.0.

 

Ferdan stopped in his task on his way past Thranduil one of the many corridors, likewise, Thranduil stopped as well. They both turned back to each other, both looking equally quizzical although Ferdan more shocked. 

 

“What?” Thranduil demanded somewhat offensively, unsure why he had suddenly gained his friend’s rapt attention. 

 

“Why were you humming that?” Ferdan asked near rapid fire. 

 

“Humming what?” Thranduil shot back just as fast. 

 

“What you were humming!” 

 

“I don’t know what I was humming!” 

 

“How can you not know that you were humming?” 

 

Thranduil scoffed, and it was the first pause of their conversation, “You’re an idiot all of the time and you never seem to know or notice.” 

 

“Oh please,” Ferdan rolled his eyes and hummed a few rushed bars of the songs that Thranduil had been absently humming, “I don’t remember the words, but I know its from Menegroth. I think I used to sing it to my sister.” 

 

With a frown, Thranduil hummed the bars over again, and again, and again before his face lit up with triumph and he sang the words to the tune: 

Through meadows and the streams it rolls,

Through darkness and the light unfolds, 

Through hill and dale, through dust and trail, 

 Until my love, I find you whole.” 

 

With a laugh on the tips of their tongues, they both sang it again, basking in the warmth of a pure moment from their past. Then Ferdan asked, “But what made you think of it?” 

 

Thranduil frowned in thoughts, “A dream, I think. I had a dream about my Ada singing it to me.” 

 

With a smile on both of their lips, they continued on their ways towards their duties. This time both whistling the same tune, each stepped with different memories. 

  

Chapter Text

I have been waiting or this moment for the better part of my life after the halls. Ever since Lady Yavanna told me about you, Avaleina. I have imagined you three thousand different ways, with nine million different combinations of eyes, voices, features, and personality. I wondered what your laugh would be like, and your smile. 


I wondered if all the parts that made you up comprised a being even close to something as phenomenal as whatever marvel that beautiful little elfling I left behind grew up to be. My soul told me that Thranduil could never stand for anything less than that.  


But I am a mother. A mother who was ripped from her son and left to wonder about every aspect of his life for endless decades, and you, my daughter in law, are the biggest part of it. 


As more of our people were released from the halls, or the more of them trickled in from our realms and others who had met you told me stories about you. Either from firsthand experience or stories whispered from others, but I heard of you. 


Those from Imladris told me about your fierce loyalty and skill in near everything you did. They told me about all the arguments you got into when people talked badly about our people, they told me about your bad mouth and biting words. Some of them hinted to the fact that you comprised entirely of the things they tended to dislike about Silvan elves. You were loud, open with your opinion, and obviously not raised as they see fit to help children grow.  


I dreamed of you, wondered about you, almost as much as I did about my husband and son. Since you are my daughter now after all, even though I have not yet met you. I have not seen you, aside from the few pictures and paintings of you, and could not help but notice that you were right next to Legolas in a good portion of them.  


They depicted you in dance, laughter, training, sorrow, and the full rage or war. Glowing almost as brightly as Thranduil in her determination and power to end this abomination. 


Even after all the information, my curiosity about you has not lessened. I knew it wouldn’t until I met you, saw you with my own eyes and felt you with my Fae. But I know ultimately if you have Thranduil, Ferdan, and Galion’s blessings then you have mine.  


I knew I would have to wait to meet you, but I did not think I would have to wait for this long. 


Wait after both Thranduil and Legolas had returned to the shore with almost all of our people. Almost all, but not you. You had still stayed behind with our people, giving those that were agonizing over the decisions of sailing west or remaining in Arda until Mandos was sent for them a little more time to decide. 


But word has traveled to us that a few ships were seen by the Teleri fishing boats, heading for the main harbor that those arriving are pulled to. 


I wander to the shoreline likely before Thranduil and Legolas had heard of your approach, but I know they will be here soon. I watch as the boats get closer and closer. I think I can see you standing at the very top of one of the sails, likely searching the crowd for the ones you love. 


Don’t worry child, they will be here soon.  


I watch as you draw closer. You, the one who holds my son’s soul, his heart, and his mind over your head like a balloon. I can almost see them hanging over your head. Every single one of them tethered to you more tightly than root to the tree that it grew. 


I could tell that even while you were still in Arda, and he in Aman. I could tell that his very insides and the most important parts of him were empty without you. Even though he still shined with more life and love than everything else around him. It was hollow without you. 


As you dock the boats I can’t quite make my feet move, as I watch you helping all of our people off of the boats, especially those that were injured, including their belongings. Family members begin to race across the shoreline towards the one’s that they so longed for. 


I can almost taste your disappointment that Legolas is not among them, yet it does not show on your face. It remains as peaceful and joyful as ever as you continue to assist your people in every way you can possibly think of. 


Dozens of people come to hug you before they move on to their other family members. You continue to assist the others in any and all ways you can. 


And then Legolas bursts off the hill of the beach and all but falls down the sand to the shoreline, smile brighter than any sun I have ever seen. The only thing keeping him from stumbling or falling is the balloons of your heart and soul keeping him floating over the ground. 


The person I have watched on the sand for the last twenty minutes peels part, sheds herself like a snake shedding its skin or an orange being peeled. In not even seconds, you were shining as brightly as him. Two stars that had fallen out of the sky to meet each other on the soil of the earth. 


When the two of you collided the son that I know for a fact that can carry the weight upon his shoulders collapses beneath the weight of your love for each other. Even form here, I know that both of you are crying. Sobbing into the hearts and the arms of the other. 


Legolas somehow manages to stand with the weight of both of you and begins walking you slowly up the beach. I already know that Thranduil is crying with joy and relief, Legolas doesn’t even let your feet touch the ground before he is passing you into the arms of his father.   


I do not think I have ever seen joy like this on either of their faces. I can hear your sobs, sense how weak your soul and heart are compared to how strong it is could and should be. 


And just like that, my curiosity diminishes. Vanishes. Slips into the void as the watch the scene in front of me. Because you are my daughter in law, and I already know that I love you. 


Even before my feet move from this remote place, I know I love you. I know I like you. I know I want you in my life forever, and ever. 


I cannot wait to meet you. 


My beautiful daughter. 

Chapter Text

I have been waiting or this moment for the better part of my life after the halls. Ever since Lady Yavanna told me about you, Avaleina. I have imagined you three thousand different ways, with nine million different combinations of eyes, voices, features, and personality. I wondered what your laugh would be like, and your smile. 

 

I wondered if all the parts that made you up comprised a being even close to something as phenomenal as whatever marvel that beautiful little elfling I left behind grew up to be. My soul told me that Thranduil could never stand for anything less than that.  

 

But I am a mother. A mother who was ripped from her son and left to wonder about every aspect of his life for endless decades, and you, my daughter in law, are the biggest part of it. 

 

As more of our people were released from the halls, or the more of them trickled in from our realms and others who had met you told me stories about you. Either from firsthand experience or stories whispered from others, but I heard of you. 

 

Those from Imladris told me about your fierce loyalty and skill in near everything you did. They told me about all the arguments you got into when people talked badly about our people, they told me about your bad mouth and biting words. Some of them hinted to the fact that you comprised entirely of the things they tended to dislike about Silvan elves. You were loud, open with your opinion, and obviously not raised as they see fit to help children grow.  

 

I dreamed of you, wondered about you, almost as much as I did about my husband and son. Since you are my daughter now after all, even though I have not yet met you. I have not seen you, aside from the few pictures and paintings of you, and could not help but notice that you were right next to Legolas in a good portion of them.  

 

They depicted you in dance, laughter, training, sorrow, and the full rage or war. Glowing almost as brightly as Thranduil in her determination and power to end this abomination. 

 

Even after all the information, my curiosity about you has not lessened. I knew it wouldn’t until I met you, saw you with my own eyes and felt you with my Fae. But I know ultimately if you have Thranduil, Ferdan, and Galion’s blessings then you have mine.  

 

I knew I would have to wait to meet you, but I did not think I would have to wait for this long. 

 

Wait after both Thranduil and Legolas had returned to the shore with almost all of our people. Almost all, but not you. You had still stayed behind with our people, giving those that were agonizing over the decisions of sailing west or remaining in Arda until Mandos was sent for them a little more time to decide. 

 

But word has traveled to us that a few ships were seen by the Teleri fishing boats, heading for the main harbor that those arriving are pulled to. 

 

I wander to the shoreline likely before Thranduil and Legolas had heard of your approach, but I know they will be here soon. I watch as the boats get closer and closer. I think I can see you standing at the very top of one of the sails, likely searching the crowd for the ones you love. 

 

Don’t worry child, they will be here soon.  

 

I watch as you draw closer. You, the one who holds my son’s soul, his heart, and his mind over your head like a balloon. I can almost see them hanging over your head. Every single one of them tethered to you more tightly than root to the tree that it grew. 

 

I could tell that even while you were still in Arda, and he in Aman. I could tell that his very insides and the most important parts of him were empty without you. Even though he still shined with more life and love than everything else around him. It was hollow without you. 

 

As you dock the boats I can’t quite make my feet move, as I watch you helping all of our people off of the boats, especially those that were injured, including their belongings. Family members begin to race across the shoreline towards the one’s that they so longed for. 

 

I can almost taste your disappointment that Legolas is not among them, yet it does not show on your face. It remains as peaceful and joyful as ever as you continue to assist your people in every way you can possibly think of. 

 

Dozens of people come to hug you before they move on to their other family members. You continue to assist the others in any and all ways you can. 

 

And then Legolas bursts off the hill of the beach and all but falls down the sand to the shoreline, smile brighter than any sun I have ever seen. The only thing keeping him from stumbling or falling is the balloons of your heart and soul keeping him floating over the ground. 

 

The person I have watched on the sand for the last twenty minutes peels part, sheds herself like a snake shedding its skin or an orange being peeled. In not even seconds, you were shining as brightly as him. Two stars that had fallen out of the sky to meet each other on the soil of the earth. 

 

When the two of you collided the son that I know for a fact that can carry the weight upon his shoulders collapses beneath the weight of your love for each other. Even form here, I know that both of you are crying. Sobbing into the hearts and the arms of the other. 

 

Legolas somehow manages to stand with the weight of both of you and begins walking you slowly up the beach. I already know that Thranduil is crying with joy and relief, Legolas doesn’t even let your feet touch the ground before he is passing you into the arms of his father.   

 

I do not think I have ever seen joy like this on either of their faces. I can hear your sobs, sense how weak your soul and heart are compared to how strong it is could and should be. 

 

And just like that, my curiosity diminishes. Vanishes. Slips into the void as the watch the scene in front of me. Because you are my daughter in law, and I already know that I love you. 

 

Even before my feet move from this remote place, I know I love you. I know I like you. I know I want you in my life forever, and ever. 

 

I cannot wait to meet you. 

 

My beautiful daughter. 

Chapter 73: Façade

Chapter Text

Ferdan looked at Avaleina as she sat in the chair across the desk from him, looking apprehensive. After sinking comfortably into the chair, she sat cross-legged and folded her arms in her lap then looked to him expectantly. Had he not called her here to have such a serious discussion, he probably would have made a joke about her looking like an elfling that was in trouble. 

 

Thankfully, Ferdan did not often have the pleasure of having this conversation. 

 

He would never forget when Oropher had had it with him, as they strolled aimlessly down a path. It was one of the first and only times that Ferdan had not felt like the conversation was rushed with the King and that for once he really was equal in the conversation. 

 

Avaleina broke the absolute silence, “Please say something, there is only this kind of silence when I have done something wrong. Have I done something wrong?” 

 

“No, child.” He responded with a soft tone, a tone to convey that she was talking to the Ferdan that helped to raise her and not her supposedly ‘terrifying’ weapons master. 

 

This did not seem to settle her in the least, “Alright.” 

 

“I called you here to discuss if you are aware of the path you have started walking yourself down.” 

 

Oropher had probably said something just as vague, Ferdan was trying it to see if she would immediately understand what he was talking about and give a reaction. But he should have known better than that, because he had trained her to be better than that. 

 

“I don’t see a path anywhere.” 

 

“But you feel it, don’t you? You feel yourself walking towards some sort of realization.” This time her non-reaction was enough to confirm his suspicions, otherwise, she would have already given some sarcastic answer. “Do you know what that realization is? “ 

 

Avaleina shook her head, her green eyes nearly glued to his face with the somewhat secret and hushed atmosphere that sounded their conversation. 

 

“It’s the realization that sometimes the world doesn’t need another hero, sometimes, what it needs is a monster under the right cause.” 

 

She didn’t so much as blink when he answered, and all it did was lead him to suspect she had been sensing the direction she was going for some time now. Ferdan was almost certain neither Legolas or Thranduil had really noticed, but then, they were the heroes the world needed. 

 

They didn’t need to know all the things the monster did behind the heroes back but under their names and in their best interest. They didn’t need to know about all the other awful things the monsters found lurking in the underbrush. 

 

Because that was the monster’s job, to make it easier for them to be the hero. 

 

Ferdan had made the conscious and willing choice to be Thranduil’s monster, had practically welcomed it with open arms in fact. The facade had fit over him well, cloaking all of his softer pieces under scales and horns. 

 

He was just worried that it would not fit over Avaleina that well. That it would rub back and forth until it left vicious blisters, and then keep aggravating it because Ferdan knew that Avaleina would not take off the facade. 

 

Not if she had put it on to help Legolas. 

 

She would wear the mask, suffer the tasks, and do what nobody else would do. Do the things nobody else could possibly do, because they weren’t monsters. Because monsters did what needed to be done in quiet of the shadows, while their beloved heroes lived loudly in the light. 

 

Ferdan knew that she would live in the darkest cave imaginable if only to keep Legolas in the sun. 

 

“A monster, hmm?” She asked, rolling it around in her mouth like she was bound to be doing in her brain too. The upwards inflection and casual almost sing-song tone could mean nothing other than that she was already well acquainted with the thought of what these dedicated tasks and decisions would mean for her. Would do for her. 

 

She examined her nails, impeccably clean as always, with curiosity as if she had never seen them before, “I suppose if I grew them long enough and filed them to a point that they could be considered claws.” 

 

With a laugh, Ferdan lifted up the upper lip on the left side of his mouth to reveal a row of chipped teeth. Each pointed at an angular but obviously downward trajectory, given to him through a lifetime of battles and several bad decisions, “They’ll match my fangs nicely, I think.” 

 

“Fantastic!” She said, giving him a smile, “Every monster needs a friend.” 

 

“True,” He agreed, but no longer had the heart to return her smile, “I just wish the duty had not been taken up by you. I just wish at least one of my elfling would not keep searching for horrible responsibilities like its candy.” 

 

Her natrual bright smile slipped into a smirk that sometimes seemed even more natural to her, “Just sounds to me like you should have given us more candy as elflings and then we would not even have time to wonder about such tasks. For we will be happily eating our candy.” 

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” 

 

“How would you know?” She asked with a lighthearted air and a shrug, “It could be! Maybe I would have become obsessed with baking and eating pies instead. There really is no way to tell.” 

 

Ferdan rolled his eyes, “At least your mouth would be closed more with all that chewing. Less annoying.”

 

She brushed it off, “I’m sure I would have found other ways to be just as annoying as I am now. Fear not.”  

 

Chapter 74: Saying

Chapter Text

Elrond laid comfortably in the grass under the star’s constant twinkle, contemplating everything and nothing all at once. Feeling everything and nothing, all at once. This seemed to be his natural state of existence lately, but at least right now he had stars to look while he did it. 

 

He wondered if the stars laid with their backs resting comfortably against the velvety nothing of the night sky behind them, while they contemplated everything and nothing too. Logically he knew that the idea was probably completely illogical, but the smile that crept to his face didn’t care what the logical part of him thought.  

 

It really was impossible to tell how much time passed when he was like this, and it was not uncommon for him to remain in the grass until the sun began to rise. Or Glorfindel came out to drag him back inside. 

 

Theoretically, Elrond knew he ought to be behaving a bit more like an Elven Lord while staying in Gondor. Especially as the wedding date drew ever nearer. But that wasn’t an aspect of existence his brain felt like contemplating, so he didn’t. 

 

Out of nowhere an elf appeared and laid down beside him without a word, his blond hair spreading out in the grass as ink dipped in water. For the first time since he had laid out here, Elrond changed his expression. 

 

To one of surprise, this was not at all the blond elf he had been expecting to join him. In fact, this was potentially the last elf on Arda he would have ever expected to be here. 

 

“Good evening, Thranduil.” 

 

“Good evening, Elrond,” Thranduil replied mildly as if this was an everyday activity shared between the two of them. “Pleasent sky tonight.”  

 

“Yes, it is,” Elrond replied automatically if there was anything he could do by instinct it was pleasant and idle conversation. “Very good company.” 

 

“Yes, I would imagine so,” Thranduil said in that manner Elrond had come to understand there was more depth behind those few simple words than in the night sky the stars rested upon. “I think they are the best company to those who feel like they might belong better up there with the stars, than down on the earth. Stuck where they don’t want to be.”

 

Elrond snorted to himself, he should have known that conversation with Thranduil could be either pleasant or idle. Not both.  Thankfully this time he seemed to have gone the peaceful route. 

 

“I will be very disappointed if this is not where I want to be, considering the length of travel it took me to get here in the first place.” 

This time it was Thranduil’s turn to snort lightly, “You might want to be here physically to witness this wedding, but that’s it. Your soul and heart have long since decided where they want to be, and it is nowhere near here.” 

 

Elrond frowned and looked back up to the sky, “Are you suggesting that I want to be back in Imladris?” 

 

Thranduil sighed to the stars as one would do when connecting on frustrations, “I’m saying you want to be with Celebrian, and nowhere else. No matter how much you wish it were otherwise.” 

 

Elrond went to argue with the words, but as they burrowed faster than arrows to his heart with the power of raw truth the words of rebuttal were stolen from him. Then all other words followed, so he continued to stare at the stars. 

 

Ignoring the way every single one of them reminded him of Celebrian’s smile or her beautiful eyes. 

 

“I’m saying,” Thranduil continues after Elrond’s non-response, “That you keep waiting for the stars to spell exactly that out to you but forget how to read every language they do it in.” 

 

Elrond continued his staring contest with the sky, finally realizing why he hadn’t been able to feel anything. His heart and soul had sailed away to Valinor without the rest of him. 

 

“I’m saying-” Thranduil began again but Elrond cut him off. 

 

“I understand what you’re saying, thank you.” Now he scowled at the sky, like this was somehow all the stars fault, “But what you’re saying I do is a lot harder in practice than in theory.”

 

“Yes, I know how hard it would be,” The weight of Thranduil’s love for Legolas dragging his words down to the dirt, and lower. “But I also know that I would still heavily consider it if I felt fear that my children might blame themselves for me enduring such a dismal excuse for an existence.” 

 

Elrond said nothing and settled for hoping the stars would tell Celebrian that her close friendship with Thranduil was continuing to cause him headaches and no small degrees of stress. Almost immediately the stars reminded him of how much good the friendship with Thranduil had brought them too.  

 

A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his wife whispered that this conversation was supposed to be among those moments of good. One of few moments where Elrond might be able to catch a glimpse of the Thranduil that only so few on the earth were granted to see. 

 

Elrond settled for asking, “Is it really that obvious?” 

 

“I don’t know how noticeable it is to others,” Thranduil began, “I just have a lot of experience staring at the stars and pretending that I don’t exist for a little while.” 

 

Elrond looked back to Thranduil, “Then how do you stay? How do you always make it through?” 

 

“Because at least right now, I had enough purpose or enough spots of joy to overshadow the feelings of needing to be somewhere else.” 

 

He could think of nothing else to possibly do instead of closing his eyes and sighing deeply, trying to ignore that he felt emptier than a dry lakebed, “They still have so much to learn about leading, about-” 

 

“And Legolas and I are here to help teach them. Everything and anything they might need, we will provide to the best of our abilities.” 

 

Elrond’s eyes snapped back open and he sat upright, he was well aware that Greenwood in general but Thranduil in specific kept their promises very seriously, and the one he had just made was no small promise. “What?”

 

Thranduil sat up as well to be near eye-level, “For as long as Estel and Arwen are on this earth, Eryn Lasgalen will do everything in our power to help them and their realm succeed.” 

 

Perhaps sensing that Elrond was once again speechless Thranduil got to his feet, “The choice of what to do is yours, Elrond. But if there is anything further that I can do to make the right choice easier on you, let me know.” 

 

Elrond listened as the almost completely silent footsteps retreated away,  one last sentence drifting back to him until he was alone under the stars again, “And when you see Celebrian, tell her that I miss her.”

Chapter 75: Barracks

Chapter Text

Lord Ferdan paused at the base of the tree and turned to Celeborn, but spoke to all that had accompanied him, “I suggest you all take a moment to prepare yourselves before you and your archers enter the barracks.” 

    Celeborn looked at him like he might actually have gone crazy this time, “My archers and I have seen and spent much time in countless barracks’. I do not see why we ought to prepare ourselves specifically for this one.” 

    “Because you’ve probably never set foot in a barracks such as this,” Farlen said from behind them, a smile clearly evident in his voice even if a glimpse of his face was impossible. 

“My Lord Ferdan,” another one of the greenwood archers reminded gently.  

“Ah yes,” Lord Ferdan said, and once more addressed Celeborns entire company, “Within the barracks, all official titles, ranks, and status are irrelevant. Especially somebody from a different land than ours.”

Celeborn raised his eyebrows at this very specific and unusual rule, “Am I allowed to ask why this is a rule?” He was quick to add, “Not that I am objecting to it.” 

All of the Greenwood’s warriors’ eyes turned to Ferdan, all of them looking like they were ready to answer the question in detail should they only be given a chance. He did not present that chance to them, “Most of the warriors you will find here are home only a fraction of their lives, the rest is spent out here in the relative solitude of the forest. Of that eighty percent of their lives spent out here, perhaps fifteen percent of that is spent here in the barracks and not on active duty.” 

He stopped for a moment to make sure each of Celeborn companions had paid attention to the words, to see if they had noticed his point or not. Then he continued, “I refuse to make them be something other than themselves for longer than I have to.” 

Then he climbed the tree, the Greenwood archers following as one with their master. Celeborn followed, expecting his own warriors to do the same. 

After they reached the platform Celeborn was surprised at the size of the barracks, and even more surprised that Thranduil’s magic to conceal it from view until you stood on top of it. 

 There were multiple connected levels expanding little ways into the trees around them he assumed were wings for sleeping arrangments. The way it appeared to be built, aside from entering at the front, there was no other entrance or exit into the maze of a building. 

Somehow, all was perfectly silent around them even though he knew there ought to be at least a low hum of sound from the bodies that had to be occupied within. Ferdan opened the door and ushered them all inside. 

A wave of music, warmth, and good cheer slammed into Celeborn full force before he was even halfway through the doorway. Once he was through, there was an additional surprise to find themselves in a huge space halfway between a pub, library, dining, and sitting room all at once. But the strongest impression he got now was from the pub aspect. 

 This indeed was like no barracks he had ever seen before. 

“Farlen!” An elated voice cried, the only warning before a body launched itself from the crowd, across the back of one of the couches and collided with him. Wrapping their arms around his neck and legs around his middle rather than waist due to their size difference.  

The surrounding space and air were crammed with every kind of life that it possibly could have been, and so it took the room what felt like two entire minutes to even notice that they had visitors that did not usually belong among them. Either that, or it just took them that long to decided to care. 

The greeting to many of their escorting Greenwood warriors seemed much too important to handle first, and indeed each one was greeted enthusiastically. Farlen did not let go of the first warrior to get ahold of him but merely shifted her petite form, even by elven standards, to the side to make room for the others. 

It was then Celeborn recognized her as Avaleina. He genuinely did not know the last time he had seen her, for every time he arrived in Greenwood, Legolas was called home and Avaleina was sent to take his place. Had it not been for the distinct and characteristic peace and good cheer that lingered around her, he might not have recognized her at all from the dramatic changes wrought on her by the war.  

Leaning backward from Farlen until her torso was horizontal and supported entirely by her legs around his stomach to try and get herself as far away from sensitive ears as possible before yelling at the top of her lungs, “Legolas! Visitors!”

Ferdan turned to Celeborn with a smug expression, “Warned you.” 

“You did,” He agreed easily, “I should have just assumed your warriors would be able to create their own perfect bubble, practically bursting with love and light.” 

“True.” Ferdan observed the swelling mass of warriors with near glowing pride and affection, “If you were hoping for a restful night before you set out for home tomorrow I fear you will not find it here. I did not realize that patrols two, three, and five were all here at once. As well as two others.” 

Celeborn smiled, “Good times and good cheer is often more restful than sleep, anyway.” 

Legolas appeared from somewhere above them and after seeing where Avaleina was still perched, ran at his friend in full force to do the same thing on his other side. At least Legolas’ legs could reach his waist. 

The three of them collapsed to the floor under the weight of their hysterics . 

“You say that now,” Ferdan warned with a sly smile, “You say that now.” 

“I put up with you, Thranduil, and Luthien for centuries. How much worse could they be?” 

Ferdan barked a laugh, “How you have gotten to the third age and remained so naive, Celeborn, I will never understand.” 

“I did not give myself a truly impressive headstart out of being naive at a young age out of sheer stupidity,” Celeborn said airly.

Ferdan countered, “You just did other things out of sheer stupidity.” 

“Naturally.” 

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Chapter 76: Carry

Chapter Text

Tarchas = means = Rude / Rudeness

 

Trastadweg = means = Annoying/ to annoy or pester

 

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“Put it on, or I will run you through right here and right now before you give the Orc a chance. If you’re going to die anyways, I don’t want to give anything whatever satisfaction he might get from killing a defenseless worm.” 

“Go ahead!” Galion almost shouted, “At least I wouldn’t have to tolerate you anymore!”  

“Galion, Eru sake, just strap it on.” Thranduil said in a long suffering manner, rubbing his temple at hivign to endure yet another seemingly endless argument between his realms Weapons Master and his own Attendant. 

    “See?” Ferdan asked before Thranduil was even done speaking. 

“No.” Galion said again, crossing his arms and meeting Thranduil's eye with burning determination the same moment that Thranduill finished saying, ‘on’ 

    Thranduil hated when they got like this. Usually their horrifyingly stubborn personalities did not crossfire over matters, but when it did. It was never good.  Beside him, his elk Tarchas caught Thranduil’s eye just to demonstrate rolling his own. 

    “I agree.” He mumbled quietly to his stead and friend. 

“Just put it on!” Ferdan tried again, face growing redder. 

    But that just seemed to make Galion all the more secure in his stance and he turned his critical stare back to Ferdan, “No! I am not going to be carrying a weapon, as long as my arm and sharper than my wit!” 

    Fedan snorted with disdain and crossed his own arms, “Oh please, a completely round rock would be sharper than your wit.” 

    Galions eyes narrowed, “And yet, I’m still winning this fight.” 

    Eyes grew wide with disbelief, “Are you ill? Are you seeing things? What could possibly lead you to think that you’re winning? Or could ever possibly win?” 

    “Do you see a sword strapped to me?” Galion asked haughtily.

“Oh, that’s it, “ Feradn said and all but attacked Galion with the intention of strapping the sword around his waist against his will. But while Galion may have a grudge against weapons, and while Ferdan was technically only in training for those with weapons, he had still taught Galion enough over the ages to make him very slippery to hold onto indeed.

Ferdan had taught Galion everything he could do defense wise with his body and no weapon with the hopes it might save his life one day. 

Which it appeared to be doing that exact moment. 

    Thranduil waited several long moments trying to decide if any winner would be declared on their own or if he would need to intervene in these situations or not. It was around the time that both of them crashed to the ground and continued to writhe around one another weirdly familiar to two snakes trying to digest each other simultaneously that he decided he should probably stop them. 

    So with a sigh and another exchange of looks with Tarchas, Thranduil dragged himself over to their squabble in the dirt and picked Galion up and lightly tossed him to the left. Stepping on Ferdan’s shirt firmly to keep him from crawling after his appointment.

Both attackers were out of breath and on the verge of sweaty, and somehow the sword belt had ended up several feet away from them.  

“Really?” He asked the both of them. 

They both instantly began nearly screaming their defense of themselves, but so quickly and loudly Thrandul could not understand literally one single word from either of them. 

“Stop!” He shouted, and they both fell silent. 

Making a split second decision he turned to Galion, “You go first.” 

 He took the few first seconds of his turn to give Ferdan a somewhat superior look before proclaiming to all that wished to hear, and several that did not: “I made a deal with Eru when the Valar began this cursed war. I would participate in it on one single condition, no weapons!” 

Not done speaking but wanting to make a point Galion turned iron eyes back to Ferdan, “I’ll carry books, I’ll carry paper, I’ll carry elfings, I’ll carry a tune, I’ll carry a torch, I’ll carry forward, carry on, carry over. I’ll even carry a passive aggressive letter straight into the pits of Mordor, but I will NOT carry a weapon!” 

Instead of replying to Galion, Ferdan cut a withering stare to Legolas, Avaleina, Farlen and a few other young elves who had settled in a tree nearby to watch the spectacle with great interest. Most of them stopped their laughter immediately, but ture to her character, Ava was not able to stifle her joy in time and so she was singled out. 

“Unless you have a solution ready this very instant, there had better not be any laughing.” 

A common rule among his training fields. There would be no laughing or mocking another warrior unless you were fully prepared to do it even better than them three times in a row. But even after the threat her laughter did not lessen in the slightest. 

“Get down here and solve it then,” Ferdan demanded with crossed arms and an expression more stern than stone. 

Avaleina leapt down for the tree and approached the group of them without a word, snatching  Galions sword belt off of the ground and then slide the sword into its place. Without pausing or glancing around she looped the belt through its loop and but the peg through the hole to keep it that size. 

Walking over to the elk that was supposed to carry Galion today, she gave them all a pointed look as she slipped the belt of the horn of the saddle. Where it hung within perfect arms reach, should the need arise. 

“There,” She said, “Trastadweg can carry the weapon."

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Chapter 77: Parental

Chapter Text

Ferdan watched the market swirl with evening activity, full of life, laughter, and conversation. All the elves of the city come together with their free evenings to spend it in the wonderous company of each other. 

Except of course for Ferdan, who had been sitting on the roof of the belltower since before sunrise. He knew he ought to come down, but he didn't want to. If he came down that meant he would have to face some of his actions of the last few days. A daunting prospect, one he had no idea how to even go about it. 

He had been pondering the matter all day, but was no closer to finding a solution. Just as the feeling that he might have to wait to see if the stars whispered any better ideas to him was just starting to creep into his skin, he heard somebody climbing atop the roof. 

Confused, he turned his head to look and see who it was, for he had not even Thranduil about this secret place of his. Words would never be able to convey his absolute shock when he realized it wasn’t Thranduil, but Prince Oropher. 

“Ah, very clever of you indeed.” Oropher said by way of warning, crossing the rooftop towards Ferdan. 

Through his surprise he managed to ask, “Did Thranduil send you?” 

“No,” Oropher said with the hint of a smirk, “Should Thranduil haven sent  me?” 

“No.” Ferdan said, turning back to the crowd and ignoring the older elf entirely. 

He should have anticipated the fact that I would take much more rude behavior to drive the father of Thranduil away. Oropher sat down next to him. 

“Then I suppose it is good that I sent myself, then.” 

“If you sent yourself here, then send yourself away,” Ferdan snapped. 

“Not just yet.” 

Ferdan didn’t reply to that, which he knew he should. He just did not have the energy in him, so he stared out at the sea of milling creatures below. He changed the topic instead, “How did you even get up here, anyway?” 

He could hear the smile in Oropher's voice, “I might not be an acrobatic menace like my son, but I am not exactly useless either.” 

Ferdan glanced at him momentarily with a frown, “I do not think I have ever seen you climb so much as a single tree, especially not an entire bell tower.” 

“The correct motivation is everything, dear child.” Slyly, Oropher pushed a small tied cloth bundle over to him without addressing it. Judging by the quality of the fabric, it belonged to Luthien. And judging by the delicious smells, she had stolen fresh food for him. 

“She guessed my intentions,” Orpher answered without being asked, “I did not tell anybody where I was going.” 

Ferdan snorted and set to work on untying the perfect knot, “She is good at that.” 

“So is her mother.” 

The two fell into comfortable silence while Ferdan munched on a few pieces of fresh baked biscuits, and then moved onto the rest of the meal. Oropher waited until almost all of it was completed before gently asking, “What's wrong, Ferdan?” 

He did not take a moment to think about the answer, “Nothing.” 

Oropher gave him a sympathetic but knowing look, “You stormed out of training three days ago and have not returned since. And I haven't seen you with Thranduil or with Luthien either. I stopped by your house and your Aunt says that she has not seen you with Thranduil for several days either.” 

Ferdan began to pick at his clothes with dejection, the shame of some of the things he said burning his ears hotter than fire. Nonetheless he mumbled again, “It's nothing.” 

“Then why did you leave training early?” Orpher asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Why did you fight with Thranduil?” 

“I don’t know.”

“How come you have been sitting here all day alone instead of in the comfort of your home?” 

Ferdan paused, the answer to that one he did know, yet he was seconds away from saying he didn’t know again when Oropher interrupted, “I am not here to scold you, Ferdan. I’m here to help you. I’m here to teach you.” 

“Teach me what?” He asked somewhat defensively. 

“To teach you that you do not have to do everything alone anymore.” 

Ferdan turned to him sharply, not unlike a bird of pray, “I have never been alone, I have a family.” 

“You do,” Oropher agreed, “I was not trying to say that you do not. Only that you have another one as well, and we are always here to help whenever and however we can.” 

Ferdan stared at Oropher for a very long time, searching for any hint that the words were not offered with one hundred percent sincerity, “But why would you do that? I have nothing to offer you? I’m not special.” 

Oropher took one of the cookies that was still gently warm, “Family is not about what you can offer, nor if you are special.” He took a thoughtful bite and then added, “Besides you have already offered the most priceless of gifts. Your companionship to Thranduil, no easy task.” 

Ferdan laughed, for perhaps the first time in days, but sombered up instantly, “I don't know why I did the things I did. I have been fighting all the time at home, and I have not been sleeping. Last week my father nearly kicked me out, I had one sister on each leg screaming for me not to go. Then I went to training that morning.. and then it just happened, and it kept happening no matter how much I tried to stop or correct it. I couldn’t. I just made it worse.” 

Oropher gave him a deeply sympathetic look, “I’m sorry you had to experience that, nobody ever should.”

Ferdan just shrugged his shoulders, “Doesn’t matter.” 

“Yes it does,” Oropher argued immediately, “What did your trainer say when you came to speak to him about leaving training early without permission?” 

At those words, Ferdan physically cringed, “I have not gone back to see him. I do not have the courage, I don't know what to say. Or how to say it. He had a no tolerance policy, I cannot face getting kicked out of that program. It's all I have going for me, I just can’t lose it.” 

Oropher put an arm around Ferdan’s shoulders, which to his surprise somehow lifted nearly all the weight off of his body, “I think you will find that many are much more understanding than you first think, if only you take the time to explain your situation.” 

Ferdan looked over at him hopefully, “Really?” 

“Yes, child. You just need to explain what you are going through.” 

“Oh.” The thought had never occurred to him that it might be that easy to solve, in fact, the thought had never occured that the problem could even BE solved. 

“As for your father, you are always more than welcome to come and stay with us. You and as many of your family members as you want.” 

The offer warmed his heart, “I think it is alright for now, but thank you. Should you not speak to King Thingol about it first?” 

“Oh, please.” Oropher laughed, “Luthien decided you were a part of the family a year ago, he long ago lost any say in the matter.” 

“Oropher?” 

“Yes?” 

“Will you go with me tomorrow to speak with the trainer, please?” 

“Of course I will.” 

 

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Chapter 78: Lesson

Chapter Text

“May I ask you to accompany me for a stroll around the garden?” A voice asked, very similar to the voice that had quickly become her favorite but not quite. Startled, Mereneth looked up from her book and into the eye of King Oropher who stood imposing above her, expersinless. 

The last thing she wanted to do was to be left alone with Oropher, but it was not as if she would be given a choice one way or another. She tried to give Thranduil or Ferdan a pleading expression but they were too involved yet in their game to notice her distress. 

“Of course, my lord.” Mereneth said as politely and warmly as possibly, forcing her near trembling legs to stand and hold her weight. Judging by his expression, she had not done a very good job at concealing her fears. 

The two of them started walking at a mild pace, and Merenth struggled to look at absolutely everything but the king that was strolling along next to her. As per usual though, her eyes strayed to Thranduil. 

He was in the midst of playing some sort of game that involved a ball and targets in the tree’s that supposedly had been popular in Doriath, that Merenth still did not even understand the basic principles of. She could not help but smile and laugh as Ferdan tackled Thranduil's legs and practically scaled him like a ladder even while they were both rolling in the dirt in an attempt to get closer to the ball. 

Meanwhile, Galion sprinted by and snatched up the ball for himself, a string of exasperated and betrayed accusatoins following behind him closely. 

Mereneth peaked at her king out of the corner of her eye and was surprised to find a hint of the fondest smile she had ever seen, and an affection burning like a forest fire behind his eyes. She could not help but wonder if it was only for Thranduil, or all three of them. 

“I wanted to tell you something,” Oropher said, voice as mild as ever. 

“My lord?” She asked, daring to glance up at him for a few quizzical seconds. Every part of her body desperately wishing he was not about to try and force her and Thranduil apart. Threaten her with something, perhapes. 

“When Thranduil picks people, it's for life. His whole life.” 

She hated that she could not keep her face from flushing with heat in what she imagined was a scarlet blush, remembering Thranduil’s whispered promises that he would not let his heart be taken away from her. Even if he was a prince and she had no status of any kind, that he had chosen her and nobody else. 

“Sometimes, there will be times where you are certain that person is bad for him. Perhaps even the worst thing he could be around, I have thought that many times. Countless, probably.” It was Mereneth’s impression that Oropher was speaking more to himself or the world in general than to her specifically. 

“But he will always prove you wrong at the most crucial of times. I don’t know how he does it, but he can tell the kind of person you are without even a whiff of your scent.” Oropher looked back over to his son with open fondness this time, “I do not trust anything in this world, but I do trust my son and his judgement. It was one of the hardest realizations I ever had to come to terms with.” 

Merenth tilted her head to the side and for the first time since she had stood from the bench she looked him fully in the eye, “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because it is important that you remember it, when you are his family.” 

The use of the word ‘when’ in reference to their union made her head spin, considering how against their relationship Oropher had seemed up until this point. It nearly felt as if the weight of the entire world was lifted off her lungs and chest. She took her first deep breath in months. “Will you not be there to remind me?” She asked. 

Orphers expression changed then, it became similar to the one Thranduil always had when he knew something that she did not but refused to tell her. Not out of game, or to tease, but because of fear of hurting or scaring her. 

She had never liked that expression on Thranduil, but it was nearly terrifying to be found on Oropher. 

He turned sad eyes to her, vulnerable in a way Merenth had not even contemplated Oropher could be, “No, no I fear that I will not be. I fear that soon my son will have to face the horrors of this world without me. That nobody will be around to remind him of the important lessons he forgets every few centuries, or help make sure that the chosen people in his life understand him. Really, understand him. The way he see’s things, feels them, expresses them. It isn’t like any elf I have ever met before, and everybody always expects him to be.” 

She wanted to ask how he could sound so sure that he would be leaving Thranduil soon, but refrained. If he had wanted to explain, he would have. So she settled on another question altogether, “Well, then it sounds like you have a job to train me in for before you have to leave. Then I can carry on all of your work.” 

He blinked at her with silent surprise, “You think that you can learn everything in the span of a few years?”

“Everything?” Mereneth shook her head, “No, not everything. So start with teaching me all the things that Galion and Ferdan don’t know yet. I'm sure between the three of us, we can figure it out.”

 In the background, there was another uproarious chorus of laughter from the three best friends, and a bit of that determined fire was rekindled in Orophers eyes, “Yes, I’m sure the three of you can. Let us begin, then.” 

 

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Chapter 79: Adventure

Chapter Text

Legolas could not explain why, but it felt disrespectful going any further without being welcomed there, and considering that the rest of his companions stopped the same time that he had he it seemed likely they felt the same. 

“Alright,” Ferdan said, “Not what?” 

“Yeah,” Eloissa panted next to him, “I’ve climbed all the way up here and I don’t intend to go back down without at least giving this a shot.” 

“What happens if we go further?” Ferdand asked nobody in particular, or maybe mostly himself. 

“Where your manners went, I will never know.” Avaleina scolded them both with a frown, and then side stepped to the edge to do the outcropping so that she was not sheltered nor would her voice be muffled. 

She stood on the the very edge of the cliff and reached both hands out to Legoals, who grabbed her wrists firmly. Leaning back, just a little so that her voice would be able to echo up the rock, Ava called as loud as she could, “Hello? We are Elves from the forest of Greenwood, we come in peace and with well wishes! It was our deepest hope that you would humble us by coming to meet, even just for a few moments!” 

Then Legolas pulled her back up and back under the outcropping. To the other two’s raised eyebrows she said, “And now we wait.” 

 

 Perhaps only an hour or two went by, absorbed quickly by lively conversation almost more full with laughter than with words when it was disturbed by the sound of huge flapping wings. Not long after, one of the great eagles landed on the same outcropping that Avaleina had leaned off of earlier. 

All of the elves bowed with respect and surprised, the eagle inclined dipped its head towards the ground while holding out its right wing in a show of goodwill and hospitality. 

“Greetings, Wood Elves.” It's said to them in a deep voice, “I must express my gratitude and surprise for the fact you have stopped where it is intended our visitors stop. Not once you begin to find the old bodies, orc and goblin, I should clarify.” 

“We assumed no less,” Avaleina said brightly yet with sophistication, as the other had been waiting for her to do. The role of who presented as the speaker of the group switched according to the situation, and now the decision happened faster for them collectively than to think to breathe. 

“Tell me, what are four of our Silvan Friends doing so far and above their things that grow? It has been long since your kind has visited ours.” 

Even with her back to them, Legoals could tell by her posture that Avaleina smiled brightly at them, “It is because of that we have come. We yearned for adventure, and we had not met our majestic friends of the sky since we were young elflings hardly after our forest had burned.” 

The eagle eyed them carefully, “Ah yes, the young Orphans. I remember you now, the smile should have given you away. Although, it was much smaller then and you were trapped tightly in the arms of Lord Ferdan, next to his ever stern face.” 

Ava laughed, “Yes, that was me. Avaleina.” 

“Yes, yes.” The eagle said with approval. Then it turned its keen eyes to the others, and Legolas saw knowing in it when it turned to him. “My lord will have no trouble with your coming to our home.” 

The eagle lowered its head and upper body to the ground and held out a half folded wing, “Climb atop me, and I will whisk you there faster than your legs and hands could ever help you climb.” 

Avaleine hesitated, “Are you certain?” 

“Yes, yes.” The eagle answered nearly impatiently, so with an ear splitting grin sent back to Legolas and the others she scrambled atop his back. The other three were quick to follow her. The eagle waited until they were settled on him before he righted himself again. “I am Morwender, by the way, and I would hold on if I were you.” 

He did not wait for a response from any of them before he swung out into the sky, dipping them into near a straight dive down the mountain canons as their screams of fear and joy echoed in all directions. At near the last minute he swooped up long enough to sink most of his body into a deep lake until the water was near flush with where they sat on his back. 

Mesmerized, Ava leaned out and let her hand gently skim across the water, taking great joy in the fish that swam after her fingertips. 

WIthout the same warning, he began to tilt upwards at alarming speeds, but at least not at terrible angles as he started to race them back to his home. 

Their screams of fear soon turned into near laughter and bright voices as Morwender continued to show them all the wonders held in the sky that were hidden from them. 

They would be delighted to learn that they were welcome to stay for as long as they wanted among their new friends. And with their help were able to visit Rivendell for a day and night during their week and a half long stay in the nest. 

The adventure would go on to become one of their fondest memories with each other. 



Xoxoxoxoxoxo sorry its late but i hope you guys liked it!!! 

(For North, thank you for all the love and support!!!)

Chapter 80: Prepare

Chapter Text

It was late into the night when Oropher finally went in search of his son, after not hearing so much as a whisper to indicate that he hadn’t gone and done something incredibly stuppid. Thankfully, and for perhaps the first time ever, Oropher found Thranduil exactly where he was supposed to be. 

He heard his sons bellowing voice long before he caught sight of him high upon the wall, yelling at his fellow soldiers about how to better fix their defenses. What areas they were weakest in, and where you could sneak in and out of the city if you were determined and clever enough. 

The exact perfect job for Thranduil to have, since nobody else knew or exploited the cities defenses as ritually nor as successfully as Thranduil. And those were only the times that Oropher knew about. 

Even from the ground, Oropher could still feel the raw rage spilling off of Thranduil stronger and faster than water over a waterfall. He made absolutely no effort to avoid his father's eye and it was in that moment Oropher knew his son was coping as poorly as he feared he was. He gave a brief and subtle motion for Thranduil to come and meet him on the ground, and he complied imiediatly. 

Further cementing Oropher’s fears. 

When Thranduil landed next to him Oropher began a stroll that exhibited the utmost leisure into a nearby archway where they were obstructed from view. Once there, he pulled Thranduil against him and held him strongly in his arms. “Oh my son, I’m so sorry your heart is breaking like this.” 

Thranduil loved this city, he loved its people, he loved its memories and his love only grew with each passing year. Oropher liked the city, but it felt empty now with so many of the people who had made it home now gone, but his heart broke for what the loss of it might mean for his son. 

He had refused to allow himself to contemplate the fact that Thranduil might now even survive the fall of the city, nor Oropher. He refused to acknowledge that both of their deminses seemed near a certainty. 

He could tell just by looking into his face as he pulled away that Thranduil had made a similar if not identical decision about their upcoming fates, “Its alright, Ada.” 

“Not it isn't, but thank you for trying to lie to me.” 

Thranduil almost smiled at the commnet, but then he just leaned back into his father again and Oropher readily held him close. This was too much change, heartbreak, and death for one youn elf to handle. 

“Dior is making an address later today to the city, there will be a caravan leaving for Sirion in a few weeks time, anybody who wants to leave is welcome to go.” 

Thranduil nodded into his fathers shoulder and replied, “Ferdan will be wanting his family to go.” 

“It’s already been arranged,” Oropher said gently, “But I want you to consider going with them.” 

Thranduil recoiled from him in obvious horror, “Ada? What? I couldn’t-” 

“Thranduil listen to me,” Oropher said as he placed both of his hands on either side of Thranduil's face, “This is going to be a battle the likes of which we have not even seen in our worst nightmares. This is a battle where nobody is going to win.” 

Thranduil was looking him deep in the eyes when he nodded and said, “I know that it is.” 

“Then why will you not leave?” Oropher almost begged, the desperation his soul felt but mind refused to acknowledge leaking out with every syllable. 

“Likely for the same reason that you will not,” Thranduil replied without needing a thought.  Oropher could do nothing but stare at is son, but Thranduil starred back with the same burning determination, “Are you going to leave with me, Adar?” 

Oropher just stared at him, because he know that Thranduil already knew the answer to that question. If this city was going to burn, then it was going to burn with him inside of it, “No,” 

“Then how dare you even suggest I abandon our people,” Thrandil scolded. 

“You will not be abandoning them,” Oropher tried, “But leading the vulnerable to a safe place where they will not be harmed.” 

Thranduil was not swayed, “Somebody else can lead them to safety. I am content to lead them into battle, thank you.”

Oropher stared at his son, and Thranduil continued to stare back. Without warning, even to himself, Orpher was unable to stop the flood of tears that began to leak from his eyes in overwhelming numbers. 

Thrandil was more shocked that perhaps Oropher had ever seen him, “Ada-” 

Unable to finish his own question, Thranduil settled for drawing his father back in for a deep and loving embrace. Every inch of his heart going out to Oropher in an attempt to offer some sort of support, any sort of support that he could.

Chapter 81: Peace

Chapter Text

Ferdan was abstractly aware that most of the camp was still extremely busy and bustling around to complete all sorts of appointed tasks. But for one of the very few times in his life, he had absolutely no concern that he wasn’t being as helpful as possible. As far as he was concerned, 

he was already doing the most important job imaginable and nothing would have ever been able to to convince him to move. 

Avaleina shifted the slightest bit and Ferdan forgot about the rest of the camp, and the rest of the world instantly. “Shhhhhh, my sweet girl, it is not yet time for you to wake.” To help make his point, he resumed to gently and idly run a hand through her hair and adjusted the way in which she was laying so she was as cradled as possible. 

He was unable to move his eyes from her face which was momentarily the picture of seren peace. It was enough to bring tears to his eyes as he pointedly refused to allow himself to remember that he literally could not remember the last time she had looked anything but tired, crumbling stress, and heartbroken during her waking hours. 

He hated that the fact it seemed likely none of them would survive this final assault upon Dol Guldur tomorrow was almost a relief. Almost a blessing. Because then at least she would be in a land where the pains and the suffering could no longer find her. Where no more of her body would be sliced to pieces day in and day out for another few centuries. 

“It’s something that will never stop surprising you, I think, no matter how long you’re a parent.” Celeborn said as he approached from behind the tree that Ferdan was resting his back against. He stopped at Ferdan’s left side and crouched down to pass a precariously full bowl of stew, “The moment you think you fully understand how much love you have for them, and all the things you would do for then, and wish for them, they surprise you all over again.”

Ferdan took the stew carefully to not spill any of it upon the sleeping Elleth in his lap, the poor creature who still managed to look beyond exhausted even while sleeping. 

“Parent by blood or by heart, the love and the pain are the same.” Celeborn stood back up, “Fortunately, most of us don’t have the horrible duty of leading them into battle. I’m sorry, Ferdan.” 

Ferdan’s eyes had already gone back to Ava’s face, a deep cut that was still being held precariously together with uniform precision stitches that he could tell had been done by Farlen.

He waited until he could hear the footsteps of Celeborn fading away before he leaned forward and placed a kiss onto Avaleina’s forehead, trying his best to channel every ounce of love and warmth he held for he into it seamlessly and then whispered, “I’m sorry this was the lift you had to live. We tried so hard to help make a better world for you, a better life for you. I’m sorry we could never do it, I’m so sorry.  



The smell of blood was so putrid and overpowering that Ferdan’s brain had stopped recognizing it altogether. The same as it had stopped recognizing the screams, the suffering, the dying, the desperate. Stopped recognizing the sounds of clash after clash of weapons, the thudding of bodies, or crackle of the fires. 

But now everything was quiet, everything was still as if Eru had put the entire world on pause. Except the only spell that had been cast was dumb disbeleif that the battle was over, that any of them at all had been left alive through it all. 

That the great fortress of evil that had haunted and plagued their home for so many endless centuries was finally gone. Finally nothing more than a worthless pile of rocks. 

His brain started to register noises and sounds sluggishly, vaguely aware of many desperate voices that started to call out for their loved ones. 

He could still feel the constant presence of Thranduil in his mind, and so already knowing that he and his realm had not been rendered kingless. There was only one other place it had any interest in: Where was Ava? 

Near frantically he began to search every crevice and bump of the battlefield, asking all elves that passed him by if they had seen Avaleina. None had. At least, none had recently. 

His pace of search began to increase with every spot checked that she was not in, and his adrenaline began to leak back into his body with every elf who claimed they hadn’t seen her. Somebody should have seen her by now, she should have found Thranduil by now. Found anybody. 

Ferdan looked down and around himself at all of the unrecognizable bodies, many of them he would not even have been able to tell had been elves if it weren't for what they were wearing. The carangage and destruction of the battle was reprehensible, enough to turn the stomach of even the oldest and most experienced of warriors. 

In the distance Ferdan could hear Farlen’s desperate calls for Avaleina, his voice sounding as broken as the inside of Ferdan felt whenever even the smallest portion of his brain whispered that she was one of the mangled corpses. One that would never really be found, never really be brought home. 

He had done a sweep of the battlefield twice now, and yet nobody had seen her. He began to dry heave out of pure panic and heartbreak, his carefully planned out and logical reasoning melted away. His searching all but became a frenzy of activity. Too fast for even elves to get a proper look at him before Ferdan had vanished off in another direction. 

There were some elves that were starting to contemplate how to broach the topic with him that it might be time to stop looking, when without any logical reasoning behind it Ferdan peered over the edge of one of the steep and near straight drops into a deep chasm that laid below the fortress. 

There resting limply and unmoving on a small ledge outcropping, a pool of blood seemed to cover all of the rock that lay beneath her and some dripped steadily off the ledge. 

Ferdan screamed, “Ava!” to try and see if he could wake her up, try to see if he could tell if she was even alive. When she didn’t so much as flutter an eyelash, he leaned forwards and yelled her name again. 

Still no movement. 

Unwilling to waste any more time and not caring in the slightest that he was not necessarily the best climber around, Ferdan began to scramble down the rockwall towards her. His heartbeat was thumping so fast in his ears that it was as if nothing else existed in that moment other than him and his need to reach Avaleina. 

He tested the strength of the outcropping before he stepped out onto it, immediately falling to his knees so that he could check her pulse. 

He could have passed out when it fluttered underneath his fingertip. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, so sorry.” Ferdan repeated endlessly in a manner that was not yet sobbing but was far from any natural tone of voice as he began to frantically search her for where the biggest injuries were. 

He was just about done dressing the last of her wounds when her eyes fluttered open, swimming with pain and confusion but coherent. Present. 

Her voice attempted to be alarmed when it asked, “Are we in the halls?” But it came out mostly as a scratchy croaking sound. 

“No,” He assured her while he began to run a few of his fingers through her hair in an unconscious attempt to bring her a measure of comfort. “No, my dear, we won. We finally won. It’s over.” 

The expression of utter relief flooded her face, and her eyes drifted closed the same time a smile lifted her mouth slightly. Whatever composure that Ferdan had managed to collect crumbled around him entirely when he recognized the new expression on her face: Peace.

Chapter 82: Mask

Chapter Text

For Fanartsthings 

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“Take your mask off when you speak to me,” Legols snapped, beyond done with being unable to read anything in her face or her eyes. Avaleina was the only other elf than Ferdan that Legolas knew who could cover every inch of herself against anybody, when she really wanted to. Even the very closest to them. 

Even her King, if she really wanted to. 

Avaleina laughed once, mocking and disdainful and Legolas knew that her temper had nearly reached its peak. Her mask might be able to hide her thoughts and most of her reactions, but it could not erase the near encyclopedia like knowledge that Legolas possessed within his mind. 

Her voice was as sharp as his had been, “You first.” 

 “I don’t have one!” He practically shouted, and forced his voice back down to a normal level again. He knew that his temper had gotten the better of him for the first half of this interaction, but he was determined to get a better hand on it for the remainder of it. “Meanwhile, there you stand practically blending into the wall behind you.” 

She peeled off the first layer of her mask, and he watched as her expression went from complete stone to nearly alarmingly scrutinous as she looked directly into his eyes. Looked him up and down, and then snorted a humourless laugh to herself. 

Legolas wasn't sure that her not having a mask made him feel even remotely better in this moment, but he did his best to keep his posture and eye contact. It was so alien to not know anything that she was thinking or feeling that it was practically painful to experience. 

A gaping void where usually there was nothing but burst after burst of familiar, intense emotion. 

“You are,” She said matter of factly, “But somehow you managed to only have it on the inside, so that the only view that is being obstructed is your own.” 

He could feel his annoyance climbing, knowing that she had already decided the only way for this to be resolved was her way. Now, if only Legolas could figure out what, exactly, needed to be resolved. “What does that even mean?” 

“I am not sure how I could be any clearer,’ Ava said, crossing her arms dramatically and throwing her hip out to the side. 

“I’m not wearing a mask. I’m not hiding anything from myself.” 

Avaleina breathed half a laugh, threw her nose, and she peeled more of her mask off. Softening her face to a sympathetic, knowing expression. Legolas hated that the look on her face was sincere enough that he knew she was probably correct, he had put a mask in front of one of his many faces inside him. 

She was usually right when it came to him. It was annoying. 

Their argument had lasted perhapes two hours, but now there was no sign of aggression or anger anywhere in her posture or expression and Legolas felt his vanish similarly before he could dismiss it. 

Slowly, nearly painfully slowly she began to cross the room to him. The dress from the night's dance swishing and swaying more with her heartbeat than her movements. Her expression was open now, understanding, but hurt. 

Leoglas could feel his heart speed up in his chest as she drew closer to him with every step, and he struggled against the urge that appeared to take a step back. He could look six wargs down no problem, but his knees were weak at the warmth in her eyes and as he caught the scent of all the flowers in her hair his head spun. 

She stopped directly in front of him, so that she was the only thing that he would pay attention to, not that even could have if he had wanted to. Blinking up at him with her large green eyes that always swam with the promise of home, she gently raised onto her tiptoes to be closer to his height. 

With an almost shaky voice he forced himself to say, “I’m not wearing a mask.” 

Her right hand came to circle his write while the left came to his shoulder almost as if she needed to steady herself as much as he still felt he needed to. Against his will, his command, and even a prayer his eyes strayed to her lips as they drew closer to his and were unable to look away. 

Her lips curved in the absolute best way possible, the best smile. The perfect smile. The one he only ever saw when they were alone, or small private moments in front of their friends. 

It was almost enough to make him take flight right then and there. 

She gently pulled him down until she could put her lips almost directly against his ear and Legolas hated that she could probably feel how rapid his pulse was. He tried one last desperate attempt to control his heartbeat but it continued to ignore him. 

He could feel her warm breath against his ear and goosebumps rose over his skin when she whispered, “Liar.” 

Then her grip on him was gone, the door had been opened and she was gone. Her mask left completely broken across his room, waiting for his to join it. 

Whenever it was that he figured out where it was. 

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Thanks for reading!!!! I hope you liked it!!!! I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.

Chapter 83: Deserve

Notes:

Sorry this is sooooo late and I missed a few prompts but reality got WILD for a second there and I needed to step back from everything to take care of myself. But hello! I'm back!

This is a (very belated) Birthday Gift for SmilingAnon's sister! Thanks for all of the support and well wishes you've sent my way!~

Chapter Text

Oropher crossed his arms with obvious and near palpable displeasure as the cell door slowly clanged open. Even though it was literally impossible for it to be so, Thranduil pretended that he hadn’t heard a single thing. All the while the sound echoed down the long corridor which had long since been emptied of all the other captured young party-goers from the night before.
Oropher had decided to retrieve his own troublesome excuse for an offspring near the end of the day. That way at least he would have at least once, he could have a full day of peace knowing that for once since Thranduil had learned to walk he was certain he knew where his son was. That for once, it wasn’t somewhere she he should not be.
Thranduil swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched leisurely, “Took you long enough.”
“I could have left you in here overnight.”
“Do it then,” Thranduil almost yawned, unconcerned entirely.
With a sigh Oropher turned and began to make his way back home, “I dont know what I did to deserve you.”
Thranduils voice echoed after him, “I’m not sure but it must have been just awful.”
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Fingers held firmly against throbbing temples Oropher said, “Thranduil, I swear, sometimes you do absolutely everything in your power to be as difficult as physically possible.”
“Hardly,” He heard his son scoff as he continued to stare as his desk, unwilling to subjugate his gaze to another smug smile. “I’m your son, it comes naturally to me. Like breathing, but even more-so.”
Defeated, a head thunked onto a desk surface, “I don't know what I did to deserve you.”
“No idea, but I’m sure the Valar are justified in their decision.
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There were face, so many faces. All of them assumed to have been lost in the city as it burned a week ago, none believed that any could have escaped other than through the tunnel.
And yet here they were standing. Rough, defeated, angry, empty. But here.
The crowd parted for him more hastily than a rushing stream does part around a boulder determined to block its path. Oropher could feel the pace of his steps increase as he neared Thranduil.
Who looked even more defeated, angry, and empty than everybody else. But he also looked like a leader, their prince, a glorious leading star in the false night created by the continued smouldering of their city.
He didn’t know if Thranduil fell into his arms or if it was him that had accidentally overused his strength to pull him to his arms but it didn’t matter once he got there.
Holding Thranduil as close as one would the most valuable treasure, Oropher whispered to his hairline over spilling with love and pride, “I dont know what I did to desrve you.”
Voice thick with choking tears Thranduil said, “At this point, it just has to be a bad joke.”
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The agonized screaming had finally drawn to complete silence, not even a whimper of flinching pain interrupted Thranduils sleeping. It was the first time the universe had allowed him peace in nearing a month.
For even when he was driven unconscious from the pain of his dragon burns, Thranduil screamed. The deafening pain had been made all the more unbearable as equal agony ripped itself from Ferdan’s throat on the bed to Orophers other side.
Settling back into his chair as replacing all of the cool clothes on Ferdan, Oropher set himself to the task of doing the same for his son. He wanted to hold him close, to give him any sort of comfrot but that would only bring him more agony. So he had to settle for cool water and fabric.
It felt like the most pathetic excuse to help what might arguably be one of, if not, the worst things an elf had ever survived.
And Thranduil had done it on purpose, faced the dragon to slay it and save his people who could not face another incineration of their numbers and spirits.
“You’re too brave and good for this world, my son,” Oropher whispered, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
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The scent of spring was beyond refreshing, it danced through his hair and his mind like a wave of peace and tranquility. Tilting his face towards the sun like an extremely large sunflower, Oropher very nearly let out a hum of absolute satisfaction.
A high pitched whistle shocked then ripped him out of his bubble of serenity, much too close to his ear than any such horrible noise had any business of being. Even the sound of Thranduil’s absolute hystericas could cover the small sound of surprise Oropher had made.
Scowling down at his son who had literally collapsed to the earth in his laughter Oropher began losing a battle with his own as he said, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Just when he thought he was safe, Oropher realized that probably at least half of the reason Thranduil was laughing so hard was becuase Ferdan was using this oppertunity to sneak up behind him.
Oropher realized this of course when another near shattering whistle assulted his eardrums. Now it was Ferdan’s delight that echoed towards their people, as Thranduil grew nearly silent form lack of breath.
Oropher swatted Ferdan on the arm, the sentence clawing its way out into the world around Oropher’s laughter he said, “Nobody, not even Morgoth himself deserves to be saddled with the two of you for centuries!”
In response, Ferdan’s knee’s gave way beneath him and he crashed to the grass next to his best friend and began slapping the ground with utter glee.
“Maybe not,” Ferdan gasped.
“But you have to admit,” Thranduil struggled to finish, “At least it's been eventful!”

Chapter 84: Scout

Chapter Text

"She couldn't have found it." Celeborn said, fairly confidently. Yet air around him was still dusted with the memory of his recent past failures. “Not this time.” 

"Yes, she could." Ferdan said with enough faith that the tone was lazy.

"She couldn't possibly," Celeborn continued, more doubtful, "I had three entire days to go and hide it somewhere fitting!” 

“Yes,” Ferdan agreed without lifting his arm from where it draped over his closed eyes to cover them from the sun, “And I told her to go and get it.” 

Celeborn offered to the few gathered around, “Maybe she gave up.”

“Avaleina doesn't give up,” Five voices chorused at once: Ferdan, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. 

“She has to be ordered back,” Legolas continued but paused when Ferdan snorted with a mixture of fond amusement and palpable frustration. The prince amended somewhat reluctantly, “Sometimes kicking, screaming, and scheming the whole way.” 

“Honestly,” Ferdan added dryly, “As I get older I've figured out it's better for my sanity and therefore everybody else’s to just let her run her course. Even when you think she’s given up, she’ll surprise you.” 

“Alright then,” Celeborn conceded defeat before Avaleain and Elrond (the impartial judge) had returned back to the center of the valley, “She found it.” 

He sat back down on the bench behind him, “Astounding. Absolutely astounding, my men will be beyond displeased that their final rematch was another failure.” 

“Good,” Ferdan said just slightly more than grunted, but the disdain still obvious,  “Should teach them a lesson about questioning the abilities of my scouts. Especially, one of my best scouts.” 

“Nothing hides from Ava. Nothing.” Legolas said, tinged with hindsight and eyes wide, “No matter who hides it, no matter what it is, she will find it if she wants to. Better to just not try to hide it at all.” 

“They won't be able to find us,” Celeborn heard somebody whisper in dismay into the blackness of the hole that had swallowed them hours before.  

“She’ll find us.” Celeborn assured his men instilling with confincinde as he could possibly be while whispering.

“We’ve been waiting for hours! We’re too near the border for any scout to even search this far-”

Celeborn tried to cut him off, “I said. She’ll find us.” 

“My lord,” the voice almost pleaded, “You have been telling us that for hours. They have sent a Silvan-” 

“Have faith in your Kin!” Celeborn snapped. “Have faith in the minds and talents that King Thranduil and Lord Ferdan have placed their own people into, and know that it is good enough for us to be put into!” 

The darkness and silence swallowed them once more for some time. 

Celeborn had begun to feel another altercation of sorts brewing, but before it could burst back into their space again he heard a conflict erupt from above them. Several solid thuds rumbled the earth, and a few strangled yelps of dying orcs bounced across the soil. 

Moments laters, the trap door above them was lifted open to reveal glorious morning light, and Avaleina’s smiling (and slightly bloody) face. “Good Morning! I heard you ordered a rescue mission?” 



“Ava, no!” Celeborn had never heard somebody, not even Oropher, sound as stern as Ferdan had with those two words. And was halfway surprised to see that they had not crumbled Avaleina directly in half with the weight of them. 

She just crossed her arms and said, “Ferdan, yes.” 

“We will find another way!” 

“We both know that this is the best way!” 

“We. Will. Find. An-” 

“That’s giving up! Since when did we do that?” 

“Avalei-” 

“I’m not giving up!” She all but shouted in his face, “I’m going. Help me or do not!” 

Their small contingency had been shocked into silence by their outbursts from two of their leaders, and Celeborn’s people wisely followed suit. 

Avaleina took a few steps towards Ferdan and took both of his hands into hers, “I can do this. I know I can, you just have to believe me.” 

The raw misery now in Ferdan’s voice could have caused open wounds, “What if you can’t?” 

“Then I will have a quicker end than the rest of you are about to have.” She informed, half serious and half joking. “This is what you trained me for, this is what I was made to do. Now let me go and do it.” 

Ferdan sighed, long and suffering. “Alright, but let us at least help to cover you on your way.” 

Ava smiled at him, sarcastic and cheeky as ever, “I don’t need cover, I’m the best scout you’ve ever trained. Remember? I must leave now, the sun will be rising soon.” 

She turned to Celeborn and promised, “I will get the lower gate open for the attack. Please be ready when it is, something tells me I’ll need cover after they realize i’ve opened it.” 



Celeborn could see that the sillougheted outline of Ferdan trembling very, very slightly and he laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He patted it a few times before withdrawing it once more to his own side, then gently nungjed him slightly through the connection Thranduil had created throughout all of the leader's mind, “She will find it.” 

Ferdan didn’t respond, just kept staring forward with extreme precision to the place where they could remember there being a secret exit had been concealed. The one one had to wind down to the very bottom levels of the stronghold to reach. Wander past, through, and then under the center of evil of this side of the world. 

“She’s late.” Ferdan breathed, and Celeborn just patted his shoulder again. Knowing that there was nothing he could have done or said that would ever be more reassuring than the years of experience and training Ferdan had witnessed and performed with her. 

There are just some kinds of worry in this life nothing could ever ease except for the sight of a loved one in well condition. 

“I hate this,” An archer, Celeborn thought her name was Eloissa, whispered through their link, “I hate this so much.”

“She’ll be alright,” Ferdan sent back. 

Celeborn smiled a little to himself at Ferdans response, ever the protector and the comforter. 

“Doesn't mean I like it.” 

They all lapsed into silence again, all eyes wanting desperately to look no where but where the door should be, but they needed to keep looking around. They need to be vigilant in every direction. 

What seemed like an eternity, but was likely only ten minutes, there was the slightest movement from the stone wall down below. All eyes turned to watch one of the best sights in the entire world. 

A door eased open silently, and a tiny and petite head peaked out from inside and looked around every which way. Then vanished again for two minutes before returning. This time she looked up to the ridge where her people were waiting for her, and Ferdan gave the smallest bird call to signal that she wasn’t alone. 

Looking up, around, and every possible way Avaleina paused to take a deep breath before sprinting out of her hiding spot. The door remained slightly ajar, her mission a success. 

There was only a brief stretch of bare ground before even Celeborn himself was not able to keep track of her movements or which direction she had chosen to scramble away. But judging by the eagle-like tracking of Ferdan’s eyes, he knew exactly where she was. 

Without word or command, the greenwood elves began to uniformly withdraw themselves away from the massive structure and back towards the relative safety of their siege line. 

Where Avaleina stood waiting for them. Ferdan broke ranks and lightly ran up the hill to scoop her up into a deeply relieved hug, “I can hardly believe you did that!” 

“You should expect more from your best scout.” 



Thanks for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

Chapter 85: Worthless

Chapter Text

Oropher had caught the tail end of the comment but didn’t need to hear the start to know he was not a fan. He turned the coldest stare he could manage on the Noldor Lord, “What did you say about my children?” 

The lord almost sneered but didn’t, “I said something about your child.” 

The singular word was stressed nearly until it was comedic, and had he not been so angry it was likely Oropher would have laughed in his face as his pathetic excuse for intimidation. 

“My children,” with each word Oropher took a threatening step forward. 

This time the lord rolled his eyes, “You only have one son of blood.” 

“And two of heart.” Oropher snapped.

The rest of the room had been growing steadily more silent as their confrontation continued but Oropher paid them no mind. He could deal with insults about himself, but he would not stand idly by while somebody else raked the names of two of the best young elves Oropher had ever met through every inch of mud on Arda. He would not allow it. 

“What judgments do you have to pass, hmmm? After slaying your own kind and casting the consequences upon the rest of us.”  

The Noldor Lord took the final step to almost completely close the distance between them, Oropher being just a few inches taller. Not that the darker haired elf noticed nor cared, “What judgments? Plenty! They’re conceited, arrogant, difficult to deal with, rash, poor leaders, trouble creating street rats! Destined to pull all nearby down into their murky level.”

Oropher tipped his head to the side and ignored the rushing of anger in his ears, “I didn’t ask you to explain your own personality to me. I asked for your grievances against my children.” 

This time the Noldor Lord did sneer as a rumble of whispers broke out across the room. The circumstances in which the Noldor arrived upon these shores was not often taunted about so blatantly. 

“They’re just like you. Worthless.” 

After that it was all a bit of a blur. Oropher could vaguely recall landing several punches to the Lord’s face before anger stole his vision entirely. He did not begin to start coming back to himself until after he was making his way back home through the now deserted city streets of Lindon’s  capital. 

He rounded the final corner and pushed open the gate that led to the house where he, Thrandul and Ferdan lived still trying to piece the incident together. There was two near identical thumps as the two aforementioned youth dropped from either one of their balconies or the tree overhead

They must have been sitting and waiting for his return. 

“Ada!” Thranduil gasped in shock and concern, it was then Oropher became aware of a few dull aches on his face for the first time and assumed he looked like quite the sight. 

Ferdan’s voice held much more humor and less concern, “We heard there had been a fight at the meeting and were wondering what started it. But I see that it came to us.”

As he finished, Thranduil descended upon Oropher and began fussily turning his head this way and that under the moonlight, trying to properly assess the injuries. 

“I’m already, my dear son. I’m alright.” Oropher tried to assure him.

“Your nose is broken,” Thranduil deadpanned but kept inspecting. 

Oropher gently began to extract himself from his son's vice grip of concern, “Its been broken before. It will be broken again.” 

“Yeah but Ada,” Thranduil objected, moving his inspection to Orophers bruised and bloody hands instead, “This is the first time it's been from a fight!” 

“No, it isn't.” Oropher corrected. 

Both boys stared at him with wide eyes and Ferdan promised, “We’ll be returning to that topic, later.” 

“Alright, this is the first time it's been broken by anything but an accident since I’ve been alive.” Thranduil corrected, looking sympathetic when Oropher winced as Thranduil discovered three of his knuckles were broken, “Ada what did you hit?” 

“Somebody's face. A few times, I think.” 

Ferdan cheered with a mixture of surprised and delight, while Thranduil just kept starting at him with shock, “But Ada-” 

Oropher lovingly placed both hands on Thranduil's cheeks, “I am alright. It is not a big deal. Disagreements happen. Life will go on.” 

“What if it keeps happening?” Thranduil asked worriedly. He knew how high some of the tensions ran between the various Elven groups living under one king. He knew they were only getting higher, and likely to continue moving in that pattern.

“It won’t,” Oropher said and began ushering them both inside the house, “It won’t because I think it's time for us to move on. Build our own kingdom with our own values where we will be free to exist and act as we have always done or in any other manner we like and remain equal.”

A few last words drifted out as the door slowly eased itself shut, “This place and their judgments weary me.” 

Chapter 86: Translation

Chapter Text

A light and loving kiss was placed on the top of Elrond's head exactly where his headaches always started, before Celebrian circled her arms around his shoulders from behind while she laid her cheek over the stop she had just kissed. “What are you working so diligently at, my love?” 

Elornd sighed and leaned back in the chair so that she could wrap her arms even tighter around him, “This translation. It's an absolute nightmare, I’ve never seen so many languages used interchangeably throughout one solid piece of text.” 

She adjusted her head enough so that she could see the text that lay in front of him on the table, he felt her head jerk slightly in surprise but Celebrian said nothing. 

So Elrond turned around enough to see her face, “What’s wrong?” 

“That's Thranduil’s handwriting,” She said with eyebrows still furrowed with wonder. 

“What? How can you tell?” 

Celebrain laughed lightly, “Because he’s been writing to me for hundreds of years.” 

“Yes, but how could you know that’s his writing in these languages? I don’t even know what most of these are.” He glared at the page and then added bitterly, “Yet.” 

“Because when he writes to me he uses some of the same words in these languages. Its a habit, I think. I’m not even sure he means to do it half of the time.” 

“And when he does mean to do it?” 

“You’re looking at it, I imagine.” 

The both looked back to the pages, Celebrain the only one with any degree of fondness. 

Elrond asked, “What language even are these? Some sort of Mirkwood code?” 

“Greenwood,” Celebrina corrected somewhat tersely before continuing, “They’re all Avari languages.” 

“They’re what?” Elrond demanded, shocked in all manners. 

“Avari languages.” 

“How on Arda did he learn even one Avari language? Yet here he is knowing at least four of them?” 

Celebrian pursed her lips in thought about how much truth she should tell her husband, Elrond could not help but notice the only time there were any secrets between them at all was when Thranduil was involved. After a few minutes of somewhat tense silence Celebrian answered, “Just because Greenwood is not necessarily close allies with us, does not mean the woods and their people do not have any friends.” 

Elrond stared at her openly and blinked several times in an effort to digest this new information. His mental images of both Thranduil and the Avari could have never allowed for them to have peaceful interactions, especially not some sort of relationship. 

Having learned from experience, Elrond kept these thoughts to himself, “Well, can you read it?” 

Celebrain looked at him with slight suspicions, “That depends; where and how did you get this?” 

“It was in a book your father lent to me, take your accusations to him.” 

Celebrian picked the book up off of the desk and peered at the cover, and then flipped through a few of the pages. Turning the book a few times in different directions to peer at the hastily scrawled notes in the margins. “Thranduil must have given this to him. It has advice and a few cures for the various ways the darkness can infect warriors and their hearts.” 

She closed the book and put it back on the desk, the fond smile back on her face, “He must have been worried that soon Ada and his warriors would have to start facing this new darkness soon. He wanted them to be as prepared as possible for when the time came, I imagine this has some of the treatment plans for Thranduil’s own people.” 

Elrond spoke without being prompted, “Celeborn suggested that I read through the contents to be better prepared to help any in need of healing that might end up coming my way. It even has a section on the Morgul weapons wielded by the fallen 9 kings. What I might ever need with that information, I do not even wish to imagine.” 

“Trust Thranduil to be prepared for every contingency, just in case.” 

“So can you translate it?” Elrond asked again, adopting his best pleading expression. 

Celebrain surveyed him from above with a smug look on her face, “Probably, I’ll need the help of the tree’s that grew from his planted crowns out in the garden.” 

“What?” Elrond asked with complete beweidlermnt, “How are they going to help you translate Avari languages?” 

“Because they soaked up Thranduil’s magic for an entire year each. Plus, when he was here when Legolas was still small he spoke to them about helping me read the letters in case he uses words that I do not know.” 

Elrond could not help but stare at her in slight disbelieving shock, “He what? How? How could the tree’s still remember such an order from so long ago when Thranduil is so far away and has not visited for many, many long years.” 

Because,” Celebrian said as she gently placed another kiss on the top of his head, “Thranduil is not just the King of the Greenwood forest, Thranduil is the King of the Tree’s. And they can all tell the moment he even comes to a breath near them.”

“Well that’s beyond alarming,” Elrond muttered, “I think I might have nightmares.”   

“Maybe if you put more effort into getting along with Thranduil, it might bring you comfort as it does to me.” 

“It's unlikely.”

Chapter 87: Teach

Chapter Text

Oropher woke to a strange noise rippling very softly down the hallway, he listened closely for several minutes but was not able to identify what it was so he got up to investigate. The noise grew only magonly when he eased his bedroom door open and stepped out into the hallway, tilting his head back and forth to discern where the sound was emitting from. 

Not entirely surprised when it was from Thranduil’s room. 

Was not even the dead of the might safe from his son’s insistent troublemaking? 

He paused outside the door to listen to the sound more closely, but was still unable to place it. With all the grace and stealth that Eru had gifted him, Oropher eased open Thranduil’s door to peek inside and see what he was up to.

The sight startled him into stillness. 

The source of the noise was crumpled on the floor by the window, having clearly recently fallen through it. Both Thranduil and Luthien were kneeling on either side of the creature, trying their best to soothe it with no success. 

Ferdan continued to sob brokenly into a pillow despite their best efforts. Each shattered exhale being the mysterious sound that had claimed the dark hallways. 

“Don’t listen to him, Fer,” Thranduil said with utmost sincerity, leaning farther over until both arms were awkwardly wrapped around Ferdan’s chest and his head laid on his left shoulder. “He doesn't know what he’s saying.” 

“He’s my father,” Ferdan moaned with raw agony, “How could he say those things to me?” 

“Becuase he’s stupid and arragont, and to self absorbed with his own suffering to care about anybody else’s nor the effect his words have on them,” Luthien answered. 

Thranduil added, “Because he has to hurt somebody to feel better about his own pathetic excuse for an existence. You don’t deserve it.” 

Ferdan’s entire body shook with silent sobs, the silence occasionally interrupted by a muffled wail of despair, “How could he say he wishes I had died with my mother? How could he say it would have been better for us? How could he--- How could he--” 

“Shhhhhhh, my poor sweet darling. Shhhhhhh,” Luthien soothed, nearly flattering herself onto the floor in order to try and wrap her arms around him as well. 

“How can my own father wish me dead?” 

Oropher eased the doorway closed once more, he had heard enough. 

As quality as he had approached the door, he retread back to his own bedroom with great haste. The anger in his body making his steps come even faster. He came to stand at the edge of the bed and rubbed a soft hand up and down Muinthel’s arm to wake her. 

She blinked up at him with curious eyes, “Go to Thranduil’s room. There is an elfling there in need of a mother's comfort.” 

That was all the information she needed before she was already halfway to the wardrobe to pull out a thick roabe to throw over her sleeping clothes while Oropher made his way back to their bedroom door.

 “Where are you going?” Muinthel called after him. 

“To go reach an understanding with Ferdan’s father.” 

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Oropher walked down the empty city streets, each footstep echoing in every direction heavy with his disdain. He had never been to Ferdan’s home himself, but he knew exactly where it was and how to find it. 

There was a figure sitting at the front of the house, a shawl wrapped around slender guiltily slumped shoulders and a stillness about them that seemed to point to the likelihood that their attention was far away from these city streets. 

As he drew nearer a hopeful voice called out to him, “Ferdan?” 

“No,” Oropher answered, taking the last few steps until he reached the small gate that only reached around his waist, “Not Ferdan.” 

The figure stood up and wrung her hands with worry, “Do you know where he is? I’ve looked everywhere, but could not find him.” 

“He’s drunk.” Oropher said bluntly, “Drunk and sobbing on my son’s bedroom floor.” 

The Elleth looked down at her hands and shook her head and breathed, “My poor, sweet, little thing. He must be so upset.” 

Oropher raised an eyebrow, “I would have gone words more like ‘utterly devastated’ and ‘soulfully shattered’ but if you want to use the word ‘upset’ that is your choice to do so.” 

Her shoulders slumped further, “I wasn’t here when it happened. But his sibling told me about it as soon as I got back.” 

Oropher didn’t really know what to say, and so he stood there in passive silence. He did not need and introduction to know that this elleths would be Ferdan’s Aunt, the caretaker of the home and children since his mother had passed to the hall many years ago. 

“I tried to do right by him. Steer him in the right direction, keep him safe, keep him smart.” The aunt continued aimlessly. “But then, I’ve tried many things in my lifetime and so few of them turn out the way I expect or want them to.” 

“You do not think you raised him right?” Oropher asked. 

For the first time since he had walked up, he got a glimpse of eye contact with her before they lowered back down to her hands, “Right enough.” 

“Right enough?” 

“Right enough to find you and Thranduil, right enough to know that he needed to hold onto you. For his own sake.” 

The two stood in mutual silence for several long moments, each breath they took almost holding more weight than the stars that hung above them. Oropher had been expecting a heated confrontation, not whatever this was. 

“You’re going to take him from us, arn’t you?” She asked, voice smaller than Ferdan’s echoed sobs had been. 

Orpher had not come here with a plan, not really. He had come here with anger in his heart and the injustice of wrongful heartbreak haunting his ears, but not a plan. Or at least, that’s what he thought. 

It became apparent what his intent had been this entire time the moment she had asked the question. His strong voice and strong answer seemed all the bigger next to her, “Yes. I am.” 

Tears began to silently streak from her eyes as she nodded very slightly, “You’re going to look after him, right?” 

“Yes I am.” Oropher answered with the same confidence. 

“Teach him right from wrong?” 

“He already knows right from wrong,” Oropher answered, “In fact, he dances at the very edges of the lines like the most graceful dancer I have ever seen. I do not need to teach him that.” 

She nodded in a small manner again, “I’ll go and fetch you most of his personal things. So he will not have to come back and see his father anytime soon.” 

“Thank you,” Oropher said sincerely, watching her walk back up to the house and vanish inside. 

His eyes caught movement from the upstairs bedroom, a dark masculen figure was just barely silhouetted against the dark curtain behind it. Oropher stared up at Ferdans father with hatred and said clearly enough that he was certain it would reach even his dull ears, “I’m going to teach him how to demand the respect that his impeccable soul and character deserves.” 

“And how to disregard the petty words of those worth, much, much lesser than him from his heart like rotten fruit out of a fruit bowl.” 

Oropher could feel the heavy gaze of angry eyes resting upon him and that brought him a bit of satisfaction, “I’m going to teach him how to forget all about you, and everything you’ve done to him.” 

 

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Hello, thank you so much for reading!! It’s unfortunate that right now i only seem able to do pretty sporadic updates but that is what my life is currently demanding from me and so I am eternally grateful for everybody who’s continued to show support and love! 

Can’t wait to hear your thoughts! 

Chapter 88: Cheers

Chapter Text

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The three of them sat peacefully atop the mountain that they lived beneath, legs dangling off the edge as they gazed across the treetops. The air was light with the promise of oncoming spring and the woodland rang with peace.
“Feels weird.” Thranduil announced.
“Absolutely,” Ferdan agreed.
Quickly followed by Galion, “I keep getting the feelings I’ve forgotten so do something, but we’ve done it all.”
Ferdan narrowed his eyes at the skyline, “You ever think that maybe we actually died at Dol Guldur and this is just what the Halls look like?”
“Everyday,” Thranduil said.
“Pretty much constantly,” Galion agreed.
Their legs swung back and forth idly while they all contemplated the world and future set before them. “What do we do now?” Thranduil asked.
“We drink.” Ferdan answered with conviction.
“We drink!” Thranduil and Galion echoed, each laughing when Ferdan handed each of them their own bottle of wine from the bag he had brought.
“We should cheer for something,” Galion mused, “Make a toast, I don’t know.”
“To what?” Thranduil asked.
Galion suggested with a shrug, “I don’t know, surviving maybe?”
“Not killing one another,” Ferdan corrected.
“How about all the wonderful elflings we managed to raise and not completely screw up?” Thranduil asked, glancing to either side to gauge their reactions.
“Not killing any of them in the process,” Ferdan corrected again, “No matter how much I wanted to at times.”
“Also a valid suggestion.” Galion said, “Showing up all the other realms who thought to little of us?”
“Ohhhhhhhhh,” Thranduil said, “That’s a good one.”
“No.” Ferdan said solidly, “They didn’t show up in our lives till they last minute, they don’t get to show up in our toasts.”
Thranduil shrugged, “Also valid.”
“Alright then, dark cloud,” Galion snapped at Ferdan, “What do you suggest then?”
Ferdan scoffed, “I’m having a perfectly good time shooting down all of your suggestions, you’re the one that wanted to do this weird toast in the first place.”
“I will throw you off this mountaintop,” Galion threatened, “So help me-”
“Help you, who, exactly.” Ferdan interrupted, “There is nobody nearby powerful enough to even make a difference, if they had to choose between keeping me from falling off a cliff and you falling off the cliff.. ”
Thranduil mused over their brewing argument, “It really is a wonder we haven't killed one another.”
Ferdan whistled and spirled a hand doward.
“Truly.” Galion agreed, with another glare to Ferdan.
Ferdan remained unfazed by the hatred he was receiving, “A true testament to our willpower, really.”
“Let’s be honest,” Galion continued, “Thranduil would eventually be forced to help me because his life would fall apart with me.”
“That fair,” Thranduil pointed out, “It really would.”
“Plus,” Galion continued louder as Ferdan repeated his whistle but this time completed with an explosion sound, “The war is over, so why do we need a weapons master?”
“Thranduil’s been a mess a lot longer than you’ve known him. I can’t die either, I’ve dragged him through three ages, almost. And with his luck if I died, he would manage to die in the last few hundred.”
“Also true,” Thranduil agreed, “He knows too much. I can’t let him get back to my father before I do. It would be the fourth kinslaying.”
Galion narrowed his eyes at Ferdan, “That’s fair. You are a spiteful creature.”
“The most spiteful.” Thranduil and Ferdan said together.
Ferdan leaned across Thranduil to get closer to Galoin, “If you push me off this cliff, I’ll ruin lives you didn’t even know you had.”
“Ugh,” Galion pushed Ferdan away by the head with disgust, “You’re so annoying.”
Ferdan just shrugged, “Deal with it, we just established neither of us can die.”
Loudly, before either could say anything more Thranduil lifted his bottle high into the air, “Cheers to Eternal Annoyance!”
Two bottles clinked against his, and two voices loudly agreed. “Cheers to Eternal Annoyance!”

Chapter 89: Worship

Chapter Text

    Aragorn stared at Legolas face with open scrutiny, knowing that everybody's attention would be on the elf performing at the center of the hall of fire and not on either of them. Legolas allowed this to continue for at least a full minute before blue eyes slid through the crowd to find Aragorn’s. 

    Legolas raised both eyebrows at him subtly, and Aragorn frowned deeper at him in response. So the elf indicated to the doorway closest to Aragorn with a slender chin and fluid movement. 

    Doing his very best not to disturb the performance, Araogrn began to slip his way through the assembled people and toward the door. He beat Legoals there and so he slipped out into the cool open hallway just beyond the carefully carved doorway. 

    He was on his third deep breath of the night air when the door opened again, Legolas came out of the hall first quickly followed by Avaleina who practically skipped out into the hall, finishing their silent escape with a light-hearted twirl. 

    Without a word the three of them fell in step with one another and began walking down the hallway and away from the hall of fire. It didn’t take long before Ava began to softly hum a song and half-heartedly dance her way alongside them, arms seemingly doing more of the movements than her legs. 

    Not waiting for Legolas to prompt him, Aragorn blurted out to both of them, “None of you prayed, not once. The entire time.” 

    Legolas nodded once, as if the statement was near painfully obvious. The humming next to him remained interrupted. 

    “Why?” Aragorn pressed. 

    He had been expecting Legolas to answer him, but to his surprise it was Avaleina that did so. Her words still clinging lightly to the melody of the song she had been humming, “The Silvan people of Greenwood the Great do not pray.” 

    Aragorn blinked at her, quickly running through all the prayers he had heard from the residents of Imladris in the last week alone. Which was no small number. Some had been thoughtless, some had been heartfelt, some had been out of habit, but there had been many. 

    “Never?” 

    “Never.” Legolas and Ava answered together with immediate finality. 

    “Do you talk to the gods?” 

    “We do not,” Ava answered again. 

    “Sing to them?” 

    “No.” 

    “Ask things of them?” 

    “No, again.” 

    “Not even silently in your minds?”

    “I talk to myself in my mind,” Avaleina answered, “There’s no room in there for anybody else. It's crowded enough as it is.” 

    Aragorn fell silent, allowing the two of them to go down the staircase ahead of him while he mulled this new information over in his mind. With her humming upping in tempo, Avaleina sat side-saddle on the banister and slid down it with ease. 

With a loud laugh, Legolas copied her. 

Aragorn continued to walk down the stairs two at a time, when he went to the bottom landing and fell into step with the others again Legolas said to him, “We’ve stunned you into silence; why?” 

 “I just cannot picture never speaking to the gods. Not even in my mind. And never hearing anybody else do it either.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” Legolas just shrugged carelessly.

Aragorn ignored him and looked to Avaleina, “Why though?” 

Her melody disappeared into the breeze when she met his eyes, her face more serious than Aragorn might have liked, “Because the old gods are dead. A dead tree cannot bear you fruit, and a dead god cannot answer your prayers.” 

Aragorn blinked at her in surprise again, that was perhaps one of the most surprising things she could have said to him in that moment. “Pardon me?” 

Legolas and Avaleina laughed at him, but even then he could not seem to wipe the shock from his face, and so Aragorn continued, “I thought gods could not die? When did the gods die? I feel like that information that might have traveled.” 

“The gods did not die, Estel.” Legolas told him with sligh sympathy, likely at Aragorn's panicked tone, but Avaleina was still fighting giggles to his right. 

“But she said-” 

Leolgas spoke over him, “The gods are not dead, but they became dead to us long ago.” 

“Can you-Can you do that?” Aragorn asked, squinting his eyes. 

Avaleina smirked, “Just watch us.” 

He squinted further. 

Avaleina finally took pity on him and explained, “If the gods were going to help us, they would have done it by now. There is no benefit in talking to something or someone that does not respond nor care. We’ve better things to appreciate and rely upon for help than gods who could not care less about us even if they were actually dead.” 

Aragorn grunted in though and then asked, “So what do you worship then? In their place?” 

The other two alternated their list seamlessly, with Legolas starting: 

“The trees” 

“Our people.” 

“The stars.” 

“Our determination.” 

“The lives around us.” 

“Our king.” 

“The trust we have in each other.” 

“Love.”

They lapsed into silence, and Aragorn broke it with grunting in thought, “Huh. Well then.” 

“We’ll be happy to start talking to them again once they start talking to us.” Avaleiana said with finality. 

They walked in silence for some distance longer, until they were outside under the stars and Aragorn could almost feel the gaze of Varda resting on them when he stated with bemused wonder, “I can’t believe you disowned the gods.” 

Avaleina and Legolas burst out into laughter. 

“Told them to say it to the back of your head because your face was disinterested.” 

Avaleina snorted as they continued to laugh. 

Aragorn continued, “You’re giving them a timeout.” 

The laughter grew louder. 

“The silent treatment! To the gods!” 

Laughter echoed through the valley and likely into the open windows at the hall of fire. 




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Chapter 90: Introduction

Chapter Text

They approached the edge of the forest and already it was surpassing his every possible expectation. The elves at home in Imladris have nothing but rumors to tell him about the Woodland kingdom, since it had been so long since any had been allowed inside. And the visiting Silvan elves said almost nothing about where they came from. 

 

Legolas included. 

 

The valley had been shocked when King Thranduil had allowed Estel to come and learn from his people. But Estel himself had been thrilled. 

 

When they finally reached the forest edge, Legolas turned around to make sure that their escort from Imladris was well and truly on their way home. Seemingly satisfied, Legolas entered through two large trees and towards what appeared to be a statue not too far into the forest. 

 

“Come, Estel.” 

 

Shaking himself out of his amazement, he followed Legolas inside to where he was cleaning off the statue of a beautiful smiling elleth who had one arm bent by her side to hold a basket of flowers in the crook of her arm and one arm extending outwards in a welcoming gesture. 

 

“This is my mother, Mereneth.” Legolas introduced, standing back to scrutinize his work for several seconds before returning to banish several more leaves.  

 

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” Estel said with all sincerity, knowing the pain of having to have one’s mother captured in a statue to never forget her likeness. He approached and used the corner of his cloak to clean the grim from the folds of her dress and hair, “I would imagine that you were an amazing soul to behold, to have captured King Thranduil's heart so thoroughly.”  

 

Legolas looked over to him appreciatively, “Thank you, little friend.” 

 

“Thank you for introducing me.” 

 

The prince turned to look at him then, his face uncharastically serious and thoughtful, “How are you feeling about your own introduction to yourself?” 

 

Estel blinked at him in surprise for several moments, stunned. His foster father, Elrond, had told him that nobody else knew his true name yet. Not even his brothers. That the information was his to distribute at will. 

 

Perhaps sensing his rapid thoughts Legoals laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Relax, I know not your identity but guessed the veil had been lifted from you. I saw the questions in your eyes and the new burdon in your shoulders. It's part of the reason that my father had allowed you here.” 

 

“Because of the questions in my eyes?” 

 

Legolas laughed and began to guide him back out of the forest, “Because you want to figure out who you are beyond the borders of your city. Beyond the opinions of those you love the most. Estel was told many opinions whether he noticed it or not, and we hoped we could help introduce whoever the real you is to a broader view of the world.” 

 

The broke out of the treeline and Legoals began to guide him to the left and down the treeline, “We just ask one simple thing from whoever you are going to be.” 

 

“And what is that?” Estel asked, still bubbling with excitement to be here. 

 

“That you do not share what you learn here, because we are not teaching it to Estel from Imladris.” Abruptly, Legoals stopped walking and placed his hands over Estel’s heart, “We’re teaching it to you.” 

 

Estel placed his own hands over Legolas, “You’re teaching it to Aragorn, son of Arathorn.” 

 

The elf’s eyes conveyed as much warmth as his smile did, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Aragorn. Thank you for introducing me.”   



 

Chapter 91: Batty

Chapter Text

There were three sharp knocks on Thranduil’s study door and he and Ferdan looked at each other over the top of his desk and guessed simultaneously, “Avaleina,” and then Thranduil called for whoever it was to enter.

Avaleina walked into the office and said with some irritation, “Ugh, there you are.”

Ferdan raised an eyebrow and looked over to Thranduil again, “Are you ‘you’ or am I ‘you’?”

“Considering this is my office and I have been here all evening,” Thranduil began, going back to whatever he had been reading before, “I'm assuming ‘you’ means you.”

Ignoring them entirely Avaleina came to stand in front of the chair that Ferdan had made himself comfortable in, a small bundle of blankets were cradled in her arms, “How are you always around every time I don't want you to be, but a figment of my imagination when I need to find you.”

“Talent.” Ferdan answered immediately, but then added after a brief inspection, “I cannot help but notice you only have one shoe on.”

“Well maybe I would have both shoes on, if you were easier to find!” She replied, adjusting the bundle slightly when it stirred at her tone.

Ferdan frowned at both the bundle and her, “Those two things are completely unrelated.”

“No they aren't, because I was in the middle of getting ready to go when Tern reminded me that he’s the only one home right now to look after Batty. And I don’t trust him to look after him properly while I’m gone.”

Thranduil looked up from his paperwork a bit startled, “Batty is still alive?”

“Yes, he’s still alive.” Ava said, sounding a bit affronted.

She turned a little bit towards the desk and pulled the blankets back to reveal a very elderly fruit bat snuggled inside, “He’s been living with us in the outposts most of this time but I wanted to give him a comfortable old life.”

“I still don't see how I have anything to do with the one shoe.” Ferdan muttered to the room at large.

Ava sighed somewhat dramatically and turned back to Ferdan again, “Because if you had been easier to find I wouldn’t have had to run all over the place looking for you.”

“But you could have simply put the shoe on firs-” Ferdan began but was cut off by Avaleian.

“Can we ignore the shoe!” Ferdan held his hands up in silent surrender and so Ava continued, “Will you please look after him while I’m gone?”

Slightly alarmed, Ferdan looked back to Thranduil again, “Why can’t he do it!”

Clearly enjoying what was transpiring, Thranduil unhelpfully defended himself, “Please. I would be dead if it weren’t for Galion. How am I supposed to care for an eldlry bat?”

“Plus,” Avaleina added before Ferdan could add anything to the discussion, “You’re both old and cranky with all kinds of scars.”

To prove her point she leaned the bundle towards his face to show the bats face that was clearly disfigured from some sort of attack, “Look, you even match blind eyes!”

“Amazing.” Ferdan deadpanned.

Perhaps sensing that she was getting nowhere with any of the arguments thus far she broke out her best pleading expression, “Please, Ferdan? I need your help. You’re the only one that I trust. Please?”

His stern expression lasted perhaps seven seconds before he sighed and held out his arms, “Fine. Give me the bat.”

Beaming, Ava gently laid the bundle into his arms and then kissed him on the cheek, “Thank you so much!”

“Uh-huh.” Ferdan mumbled in return.

She kissed him on the other cheek, “I love you.”

“I love you,too.” Ferdan replied, as she began to head for the door again, “Even though sometimes you annoy me!”

“If that’s not love, I don’t know what is!” Avaleina called back in a singing voice as the door closed.

Ferdan turned an accusing look to Thranduil, “A lot of help you were.”

Thranduil smiled pleasantly, “I wasn’t trying to help.”

0.0.0.0..0.0
Thanks for reading! I hoped you liked it and can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Chapter 92: Tired

Chapter Text

Hello!!!!!!!! Its been approximately 84 years since I've updated, I might be a Lil rusty, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!


The sun hadn’t even begun to think about peaking its way through the tree’s or the curtains yet when the door opened into the silent bedroom with a tired squeak. Uncharacteristically nothing moved in reaction to the sound, and so the intruder took exactly three steps into the room. 

 

Strategically and knowingly out of arm's reach and gently called, “Thranduil?” 

 

“If you even so much as whisper one more syllable to me,” Began a very muffled, dull, yet threatening voice from the bed, “I will shove this pillow so far down your throat I won’t need to reach anywhere to get it back from the other end.” 

 

Galion stood silently in the dark for several moments, using his free hand to try and waft the smell of Thranduil’s favorite tea towards the bed. 

 

The threatening voice mumbled again, “You’re not leaving.” 

 

“Unfortunately not,” Galion agreed and took this as an invitation to cross the room without grievous bodily harm coming to him, “You have to get up.” 

 

“Says who?” Thranduil accused from beneath a pillow, knowing that Galion was bound to light a candle sooner or later. 

 

Galion set the huge mug of tea onto the king's nightstand, “The war.” 

 

A long and dramatic sigh was heaved, “For something that does not speak, it is always interrupting with things none of us want to hear.” 

 

Going to the dresser Galion lit one of the candles atop it before rummaging through to find something for Thranduil to wear. When he returned to the bed Thranduil was sitting upright with his eyes closed. 

 

He set the tunic and robe on the bed, and then grabbed one of Thranduil’s hands and put the fresh pair of pants into them, “Here, put these on.” 

 

“These?” Thranduil asked, lazily feeling the garment with one hand, “What are these?” 

 

“Pants.” 

 

“Ah yes, pants. I remember those.” Thranduil mumbled but otherwise did not react to the item in his hand, not even opening his eyes. “What do I do with these again?” 

 

“Put them on your legs. Those are the things you use to walk with.” 

 

Thranduil groaned but began putting his legs through the holes, “Don’t talk about walking, that's an unpleasant reality I still havn’t faced yet.” 

 

“It might be easier to do that with your eyes open,” Galion commented, putting the clean shirt over Thranduil’s head and guiding his arms through each sleeve.

 

“It's easier to stay asleep with them closed, though.” 

 

Galion did a similar process with the cloak, pinning it in such a way that none would be able to see how casually their king dressed, “Fair enough.” 

 

Thranduil stood from the bed unsteadily,“Can you push me down the hallway so I can keep sleeping until I get there?” 


“Legolas,” A voice whispered, interrupting a seamlessly black sleep. A pleasant void, “Legolas, I’m so sorry, but I have to wake you.” 

 

“Hmmm?” He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes nor was he awake enough yet to identify the voice,”What?” 

 

“We have to go.” 

 

“Now?” Legolas asked, forcing his tired body to get up off of the forest floor and onto his feet, “Go where?” 

 

Every part of him was in agony to not be resting, and his feet seemed nearly numb beneath him. 

 

“Farlen’s team needs reinforcements.” 

 

Legolas slung his weapons over his shoulder as the rest of his patrol began the unbearable  task of dragging themselves to their feet as well, “Alright, let's go.” 


Ferdan sighed and resisted the urge to break something as he continued to stare at the war map in front of him. As if magically some solution would appear that hadn’t occurred to anybody within the last two hours. 

 

“There is no other way,” One of the voices around the table said hesitantly, knowing that Ferdan was not a fan of the ‘only way.’ 

 

Ferdan cut his gaze upward with all the frustration he was holding inside and locked eyes with the advisor, “I would suggest you refrain from speaking to me again until you have something helpful and constructive to say, the sound of your voice tires me, and I already have no energy to spare.” 




“Ava!” 

 

She heard the voice, but did not recognize their meaning at first. 

 

“Ava!” 

 

Her eyes were open but her brain couldn't make sense of the shapes. 

 

“Oh, sweet child.” One of the voices said. 

 

She was so tired it was hard to breathe. It hurt to breathe. 

 

“What did she do?” Another voice asked, more frantic. 

 

The shapes moved in incoherent patterns that her mind could not track or reason with. The voices seemed to be altering from outside and inside of her mind. 

 

“She gave too much of herself at once.” 

 

It felt like she was falling into the earth, being cradled soft and warmly into it. 

 

The calmer voice appeared in the center of her vision and her heart, but she could get her soul to twitch in response to it.  

 

“There’s no response.” 

 

A set of arms warm, warmer than the ones that already held her arms reached to pluck her off the forest floor.

 

There was a strong melding sensation, as the ache began to creep back into her body and soul reminding her that she had not rested or eaten for days. Reminding her this was not the first time she had felt this kind of tiredness being chased from her body just before it could consume her. 

 

There was a sensation of loving pity, and the ache began to be drawn from her body and into another miles away. All the way to their mountain home where their King watched over vigilantly no matter the day or the hour. 

 

The space that the exhaustion had taken up was filled with life and energy that was not her own, and she gasped for air. 


“I know you’re tired,” The calm voice said within her mind, the one she could finally identify as Thranduil, “But I’m glad you’re back.” 



Galion kept a careful watch over his King until he could tell that he had fully returned to his mind, automatically extending a hand out to gently grab his elbow in case he swayed. Which he did, quietly noticeably in fact. 

 

He led Thranduil over to an armchair and placed a cup of water in his hand before he chastised half-heartedly,“I thought you were tired.” 

 

“With Legolas’ distraction, Farlen was able to get to Avaleina just in time,” Thranduil said, ignoring Galions pointed look he added, “Besides who isn’t tired in this forest?” 




 






Chapter 93: Thoughts

Chapter Text

Aragorn stood alone under the night sky, gazing down at the twinkling sleepy city of Minas Tirith without really seeing any of it. Tonight he hadnt even bothered going to bed, it was hard enough for Arwen to get enough sleep lately with their son waking up every few hours to eat without him wiggling like a fish on land next to her. 

Unable to sleep. Again. 

His mind ached with the need to wander, desperate to keep the rational side of his brain from reminding him how many things he didn’t know. How many questions he had, and no father left to ask them to. 

The light twinkled on until a calm voice greeted Aragorn seemingly out of nowhere, making him flinch just slightly in surprise, “Good evening, King Ellasar.” Aragorn's slight movement had not been enough for humans to notice, but regretfully Thranduil continued, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Aragorn didn’t detect a single trace of humor in the apology, but knowing how much Legolas enjoyed scaring mortals occasionally he just assumed Thranduil was laughing at his own joke on the inside. 

He turned away from the city below for perhaps the first time in hours and greeted, “Good evening, King Thranduil. No apologies necessary, I was just lost in my thoughts.” 

“Ah yes, thoughts.” Thranduil said, stepping up to the city ledge next to Aragorn, “A place I often find myself wandering in as well, a dangerous place to be if there is nobody around with a rope.” 

Aragorn couldn’t help but laugh, “Legolas tells me that all of the time.” 

“I wonder where I might have picked it up.” Thranduil commented, leaning his elbows onto the railing. Such a relaxed gesture still somehow seeming magnificent and regal, the same with everything the ElvenKing did. 

Aragorn turned back around and copied the posture, “A mystery, truly.” 

The two kings looked out over the city and the calm fields beyond the great white walls. With the shadow that Mordor had cast finally gone, lush green grass was finally returning to their land. Eventually Thranduil grew tired of looking at the city, instead he looked up to the stars instead. 

It only seemed fitting that Aragorn followed suit. 

“When I was still very young and soon after my mother died, Legolas told me that the North Star was my mother in the sky watching me.” He wasn’t sure what made him think of the memory at that exact moment, perhaps because it was one of the only things that made him feel like his mother was still with him. “He found me crying in a wardrobe.” 

“Did he?” Thranduil asked with a smile in his voice, “That sounds like him.” 

They lapsed into comfortable silence again. Aragorn had been informed by his brothers that the company of King Thranduil made them uncomfortable no matter the circumstances, but he had never found the king's company to be so. 

Maybe it was impossible to be afraid of somebody who once let you blow your nose onto their robes when you were a small child. 

“When I was a child, we only had the stars. The sun and the moon had not yet met with the sky.” Thranduil began, eyes still looking upwards, “My father used to tell me stories about them, a new one every time he tried to get me to sleep, he said it was the only way to keep me still. I remember always being so amazed that he somehow knew the story to every single star I pointed to in the night sky.” 

It had been so long since words had held such enchantment,  Aragorn dare not look over to Thranduil in case he stopped speaking when he asked, “Do you remember any of them? The stories?”

“Do you see that star there?” Thranduil asked, pointing out into the sky without hesitation, “Directly above the mountain top To the left of the cloud?” 

“Yes,” Araogrn agreed quickly. 

“He told me of a wandering elf who came upon an injured and starving wolf pup in the forest that he took in and raised. The two went on endless amazing adventures together, but in the end the wolf had to leave. When Mandos came to take him to the halls, the elf pleaded for him to be put into the sky instead.” Thranduil paused for a few moments. 

Then he pointed to another relatively bright star, “That one, he said, was put there by Yavanna. It's from the first tree that was ever struck down in evil by Morgoth. She wanted the suffering of the plants to never be forgotten by any.” 

“I remember the night before the battle at mordor,” Thranduil said, pausing to clear his throat, “I sat in his tent with him, while he told us stories about the stars. Even though the stars I grew up with could not have felt farther away than in that moment, and the sky was covered with thick boiling clouds so for all we knew there wasn’t even a sky at all anymore.” 

They were both quiet for a while, each of them lost in their own memories of Mordor.

Eventually, Thranduil began speaking again in a slightly more upbeat tone, “I used to tell Legolas the same stories about the stars that my father told me, then after the fall of the city I told the rest of the young ones right along with him. I’m told that once they were out in the war they used to tell the patrols the stories at night when they were trying to sleep.”

Aragorn smiled, “Then I do believe I’ve heard several of them. I did not know where they came from, but when I trained in Greenwood I remember sometimes they would ask for ‘star stories.” 

“Those are the one’s.” Thranduil agreed,  with no small degree of pride. 

“Your father was a good storyteller, then.” Aragorn summarized.  

“He was good at making things up on the spot and changing it later when needed if I started to get distracted," Thranduil laughed at the memory, "It's part of why he made such a good king.”  

"Telling good stories?" 

"Making things up as he went along."

Chapter 94: Unanswered

Chapter Text




“Huh.” Thranduil grunted, regarding him with an expression Elrond was fairly certain he’d never seen before, leaving him at a complete loss on how to interrupt his reaction. He forced himself to remain silent until expanded and his extremely brief thought. 

 

“Now that I think of it,” The visiting King continued in a casual tone, “I think you’re the first person to ask me that in about six thousand years.” 

 

Against the voice of better judgment in his head, which was usually the loudest voice to be heard, Elrond said, “Are you going to answer the question, then?” 

 

Thranduil’s unreadable expression melted back into its usual smugness once more, “Maybe.” Standing up he made for the doorway with long leisurely strolls, “But not today.” 

 

Elrond was too stunned to reply before the door swung shut softly and Thranduil’s footsteps had begun to recede down the hallway. Even so, Elrond said aloud to the now empty room, “Tomorrow, then?” 

 

“Maybe,” Thranduil’s distant voice echoed in Elrond’s years and mind alike, courtesy of the tree that was suddenly loitering suspiciously close to the window, “But probably not.” 

 

……………………………………………………………………………

 

Elrond stood next to Thranduil’s large and unpredictable horse, waiting for the King to finally be satisfied that his people were sufficiently prepared to travel back home. Even though a good portion of the talking seemed to be light hearted teasing and jokes. 

 

As Thranduil strode away from the bulk of his company and back to his horse, Elrond handed him the reins, “You never answered my question.” 

 

“You’re right,” Thranduil agreed while mounting his horse, “I didn’t.” 

 

Elrond could not help but laugh a little bit, “Will you answer it next time you come and visit?” 

 

“Maybe,” Thranduil’s tone was lighter than Elrond was accustomed to experiencing, patting his horse lightly on the neck and urging it towards the city gates, “But it's not likely.” 

 




Elrond watched as Thranduil easily reached down and lifted Arwen high above his head in one fluid movement so that one of overhead branches they were passing under could lower itself enough for her to pick a fresh apple the same Legolas had done second before. 

 

They were both laughing, and so it seemed as good as time as any. 

 

“Thranduil,” Elrond made sure not to look at him, “can I ask you something?” 

 

“You just did, Elrond,” Thranduil replied, also not looking at him. He laughed to himself before adding, “And no. You can’t.” 

 

Elrond found himself laughing as well, but otherwise did not respond until the gates of Imladris began to make their grand appearance through the morning fog. Legolas and Arwen practically ran circles around the two fathers, the echoing sound of the two elfings shreking and giggling with fun would have long ago announced their return to the city. 

 

Taking inspiration from the children, Elrond asked cryptically, “What if I beat you back to the gates?”

 

Thranduil’s steady pace faltered as he turned to give Elrond a surprised expression, “Are you challenging me to a race, Peredhel?” 

 

“I might be. If I win, then you answer my question” 

 

“And when I win, what do I get?” 

 

Elrond narrowed his eyes slightly, stressing the first word of his sentence with extreme importance, “If you win, then I won’t ask the question again for another five years.” 

 

Thranduil finally drew to a complete stop, considering the offer closely. He glanced up the road and back to Elrond, scrutinizing, like he was using the lord's height to calculate how many steps it would take him to reach the city compared to himself.

 

Knowing Thranduil, that was probably exactly what he was doing. 

 

Finally he replied, “Ten years,” 

 

“Seven years,” Elrond frowned. 

 

Thranduil gave one single nod of his head, “Deal.” And then, a second later, “Go!” 

 

Elrond ran like he had not run for years, stretching his legs out as long as they could possibly go. He was able to keep up for the first leg of the race, but when Thranduil looked over and flashed a grin Elrond had a deep and distinct feeling that he’d underestimated the woodland king. 

 

Or at the very least, underestimate the length of the woodland king's legs. 

 

Thranduil’s cloak slipped from his shoulders and fell to the forest floor in a dignified heap, while its owner left Elrond and his unanswered question behind. 




“We just received a letter from Lord Elrond,” Galion walked into Thranduil's office without knocking, “Which was a strange enough occurrence for me to think you might want to read it right away.” 

 

Thranduil didn’t look up from what he was already writing, “For me to want to read right away, or because want me to to read right away because you're nosey?” 

 

“Does it matter?” 

 

Ignoring his attendant, Thranduil mused to himself with slight realization, “Is it July 17th already?” 

 

“Are you going to read the letter or not?” Galion asked, holding the letter underneath Thranduil’s face to block his view of what he had been writing before. He sighed with slight annoyance and snatched the letter from Galion’s hand. 

 

“I don't need to, I know what it says.” 

 

“How could you possibly know what it says?” 

 

“Because it's been seven years since I last visited Imladris,” Thranduil set the letter aside and returned to what he had been doing before, “and Lord Elrond has an impeccable memory.”




“Pardon the intrusion,” the attendant said as he approached the Lord and Lady of Imladris at their breakfast table, “King Thranduil has sent a response letter, my Lord Elrond. You asked me to deliver it to you immediately upon arrival.” 

 

“Oh, yes. Thank you very much,” Elrond said, accepting the letter with a fork still in his hand. 

 

Celebrain eyed her husband suspiciously while accepting her own, much thicker letter from Thranduil from the attendant, “Why is Thranduil writing to you, and you to him?” 

 

“It's nothing important, my love,” Elrond kissed her cheek before opening the letter, “I just had a small question for him.” 

 

Celebrian didn’t look entirely convinced, but also didn’t say anything else about it and turned her full attention to opening her own letter.

 

Elrond took out the carefully folded piece of paper and was surprised to find a somewhat substantial amount of ink across the page. He had fully expected Thranduil to either not reply to the letter at all or send a letter containing a singular ‘No’ in the center of the page. 

 

It wasn’t until Elrond had flipped the letter face up that he realized he should have expected a far more extravagant response. And could not help himself from laughing loud enough to steal the attention of at least half the room. 

 

Unable to help herself, Celebrian looked over at him with open curiosity, “What did he say?” 

 

Still laughing, Elrond turned the page towards Celebrian so that she could see for herself, “I haven't the slightest idea. I’ve never seen this code or language or whatever it is before in my entire life.” 


 

Hello everybody, it's been so long since I’ve posted anything! If you’re still here, I appreciate you very much and I really hope you enjoyed this little addition. 

 

Have a wonderful day!

Chapter 95: Mentor

Chapter Text

Hello everyone!

This is a bit shorter than normal, but I'm trying to get back into writing shorter pieces a little more often and not stressing about if its 'good enough to post yet' 


 

“Gentlemen,” Legolas said as both a greeting and a way to announce his presence before sitting at the end of the table the four resident hobbits had been enjoying their breakfast at. 

 

There was a small chorus of cheerful but unintelligible grunting from the hobbits as they struggled to form words around their mouthfuls of food. Frodo was the first one to swallow and say in a clear tone, “Good morning, Legolas!” 

 

Seemingly satisfied that their cousin had taken care of being polite, Merry and Pippin settled for giving him enthusiastic waves. 

 

“Is there something we can help you with, Mister Legolas?” Sam asked, coughing slightly in his haste to speak. 

 

“As a matter of fact, “ Legolas poured a glass of water and handed it to the sputtering Samwise, “There is.” 

 

“Oh?” Frodo innocently asked, while frowning with slight concern at Sam who continued to cough gently across the table. 

 

“I need you to teach me how to be a hobbit.” 

 

This statement seemed to increase Sam’s fit tenfold. 

 

Merry thumped him on the back a few times, “Breath, man!” 

 

“I am breathing,” Sam managed in a strangled voice. He gave a few last enthusiastic choking sounds before finally dislodged whatever had been plaguing him, and managed a few sips of the cold water. 

 

“Are you okay, Sam?” Frodo asked, waiting for a wave of confirmation before turning his attention back to Legolas, “I’m not sure I understand what you’re meaning.” 

 

“I don't know what to do with all of this,” Legolas gestured vaguely in the air as he searched for the correct word, “Spare time. And most of your stories about home involve ways of filling your spare time.” 

 

“Are you telling me,” Merry waved a slightly accusing fork in Legolas’ direction, “That you’re thousands of years old but do not know what to do in your own spare time?” 

 

Legolas shrugged, “Its been a very busy few thousand years, I haven't had much of it.” 

 

The fork increased it’s wave of accusation, “Never? For thousands of years?” 

 

“ I did not say never,” Legolas pushed the fork and its accusations out of the air, “I said not often. And certainly never this long.” 

 

Frodo spoke before Merry could continue, “You want us to teach you how to do nothing?” 

 

Legolas shrugged again, “If that’s what you want to call it.” 

 

Pippin stood from the table so he could throw his arm around Legolas’ shoulders, “Well then you’ve come to the right Gentlehobbit. Doing nothing is my specialty.”

 


 

Hope you enjoyed!! I would love to hear some of your thoughts! 

Chapter 96: Alligator

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Would you look at that,” Legolas commented without looking up from the bank of the small muddy lake he was fishing in with a strangely serious manner about him even if his voice was still as cheerful as always, “Elrond sent us an extra pair of hands.”

Avaleina did look up at the newcomers in order to give them a bright yet slightly sinister grin, “Perfect timing, I love when that happens.” Farlen snorted with badly suppressed amusement from where he lingered nearby, perched atop one the docks' support poles that raised several feet above the ground. An abnormally sturdy fishing net was half clutched in his hands and half draping towards the water's surface.

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged glances and said in union, “I hate when she says things like that.”

Next to them Estel easily shrugged off his brother's apprehensions, “Speak for yourselves, I love it when she says things like that.” Estel made to move forward towards but Elladan grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, in response the human rolled his eyes dramatically but he did stop walking.

“And this is why Estel is my favorite,” Ava commented, giving one last searching look across the perfectly still waters of the lake before turning her back on it and approaching the group of brothers. Reaching them she easily cast Elladan’s hand aside, and took the young man's elbow, “Your brothers have such little faith in us, Estel.”

“Don’t take it personally,” He laughed in response, “As far as they’re concerned I’m still approximately seven years old and completely defenseless.”

Avaleina looked up at him dramatically to emphasize the foot difference in their heights, “Tall seven year old.”

Never one to waste an opportunity to make fun of Ava’s height, Farlen immediately commented, “Everybody looks tall when you’re the height of the average six year old.”

“At least I don’t have the intelligence and skills of one.” This time it was Legolas’ turn to snort a poorly concealed laugh, and Farlen kept silent aside from a rude gesture as Ava brought Estel to the edge of the small wooden dock. “What do you see?”

“Water,” Elladan answered from where he had wandered halfway up the dock himself.

“I was not asking you,” Avaleina turned from where she had been watching where Estel’s eyes had been draw as he tried to take in the scene to give Elladan and scolding look, “Now be silent or away with you, your Ada has sent Estel here to learn, has he not? So let him learn.”

“Ada sent Estel to Greenwood to learn from your military and healers, not to some random lakeshore miles away from the edges of your great kingdom.” Elrohir did not add to his twins comments, but he did wander farther down the dock.

Legolas still did not turn to look over at them, “Ada protects the lands surrounding our forest borders the same as he would any land within our woodland home, he has for centuries. This land may as well belong to Greenwood for the time being, I’d say that’s close enough.”

“And if it’s the military aspect that concerns you the most,” Legolas continued, “Before you stand three of the highest ranking captains in our entire army.”

“Who regularly help Ferdan complete the final stages of training for our most advanced warriors.” Farlen added much more casually than either Elladan or Legolas had been.

“That too.” Legolas agreed.

“This isn’t a random Lake either, by the way.” Avaleina added, turning her attention to Estel and the lake, “It’s one of the main water sources for a small human village nearby known as Fern Hollow. They are good and kind people who have already seen enough hardship for their next three generations. I enjoy visiting with them immensely.”

Although he still wasn’t entirely pleased about the situation, Elladan could tell when he was outnumbered and so he remained silent but did not move away from his youngest brother. Elrohir did, and moved to stand near Legolas on the shore as if he might be able to catch a glimpse of whatever had captivated the prince's attention so thoroughly.

Avaleina’s voice was once again entirely calm and peaceful, “So, Estel, what do you see?”

The young man took several more long moments to search for clues and gather his thoughts before he replied, “I see tracks in the mud, coming both in and out of the water. But not many of them, and in a straight line, not wandering around. Whatever it is, I’d wager that it lives in the water.”

“Good,” Her voice practically glowed with encouragement, “What else?”

“It’s got four legs, but the claws on it are odd. They leave an imprint to the side and behind the foot, and not in front of them like a wolf's might.”

“And?”

“There's a few sets of drag marks in the bank between the tracks that disappear, like it was dragging something and then suddenly no longer was.”

“Why might that be?”

Estel paused again, seemingly afraid to give voice to his morbid thoughts in case he was wrong. But Avaleina waited patiently for him to voice them, regardless. “Because it was prey, and it ate it.”

“Correct.”

“But what is it? What sort of creature has claws that face backwards?”

Legolas answered before Avaleina could, “A really big, and really mean lizard.”

Elladan made a choking noise, “I beg your pardon?”

“That lives under water?” Elrohir spoke for the first time since arriving, eyeing the bank of the lake with significantly more apprehension and suspicion than he had been only moments before.

“Looks like it,” Farlen said, still unwavering upon his perch.

“So if there's a giant, angry, water-breathing lizard somewhere in this lake,” Elrohir gestured loosely towards the body of water, “Why exactly are you fishing here? I feel like there’s got to be at least one other place that would be more suitable than this. At least one.”

This time, Legolas did wait for Avaleina to speak, “Because the big, mean, water-breathing lizard is attacking and eating fishermen from Fern Hollow and we’d really like it to stop doing that.”

“Hold on,” Elladan turned to look fully at Legolas, “Are you telling us that you’re using yourself as live bait right now for a creature that has already proven several times to be capable of killing and devouring entire human beings.”

“Correct.”

“You’re insane.”

“Perhapes,” Legolas agreed easily, “But it hasn’t proven to be fatal just yet.”

Notes:

Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it! I would love to hear your thoughts!

P.S --I firmly believe that Marion/Melkor would have created Alligators for the soul purpose of putting them in a mote around Angband and Utumno. Nobody will be able to change my mind about this.

Chapter 97: Indispensable

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Until next spring?” Farlen demanded, too caught up in his emotions to remember that he probably should have used a much quieter tone this late into the night.

Legolas shrugged with general confirmation as he quickly scanned the letter Thranduil had sent him., flipping over each page as if something else might have appeared out of thin air since the last time he did it forty-five seconds ago, “I guess so.”

 Farlen blinked a few times in astonishment, “They’ve got to be joking.” 

 “Yeah Farlen,” Avaleina commented bitterly from where she stared out the window of Legolas ‘temporary’ bedroom, arms crossed, “They went through the effort of canceling the escort home, prearranging our stay over winter with Elrond and Celebrian, and then sending us the letter as some sort of cruel joke.” 

 Either unsatisfied or unbelieving, Farlen snatched the letter out of Legolas’ hand to look it over himself, but they had only just settled into his hands for a few seconds before Avaleina repeated the gesture. 

 Farlen gave her an extremely insulted expression, “Excuse me!”

 Uninterested in his indignation Ava didn’t even lift her eyes from the paper, “Oh, calm down. Everyone in this room knows that you can’t even read the old Silvan Runes anyway.” 

 Farlen’s expression and passion didn’t change, “I can read them!” 

Legolas and Avaleina gave him matching looks of extreme skepticism. 

“I can!” He insisted again. 

“He’s right,” Legolas relented, “He can read his name.” 

“Yeah!” Farlen agreed wholeheartedly. 

Ava rolled her eyes, “Alright, so you can read a total of six letters out of the several hundred.” 

Farlen held up a finger, “But you said I couldn’t read ANY of them.” 

“You’re so annoying sometimes,” Avaleina muttered more to herself than to either of the boys, she turned her full attention back to the letter. She easily read over the few pages before she grunted with annoyance and tossed it onto the bed. 

“Find any secret information that I missed?” Legolas asked. 

“No, of course not. I still just wanted to read it over for myself.” Ava answered, glaring at the letter as if Ferdan and Thranduil would be able to feel it all the way in Greenwood.

She was getting better at her looks of abject disdain, maybe they would. 

Farlen sighed, “So we’re really staying here over the winter?” 

“Looks like it.” Legolas answered. 

“But why?” 

“Isn't it obvious, Farlen?” Avaleina asked while returning to sulk in the window again. 

“Obviously not, Ava, since I’m asking the question.” Farlen narrowed his eyes at her and added for good measure, “Obviously.” 

“Because we’re in the way,” She snapped, “They can’t trust us and have officially run out of patience. It’s just easier if we aren't around.” 

The three of them descended into mutual unhappy silence. 

Avaleina stared out the window across Imladris chewing on the insides of her cheek and trying to pretend that her eyes weren’t welling with tears, her attention drifting from the various elves that still went about their business in the valley. Not really seeing any of it. 

Legolas continued to sit cross legged on the bed, idly shuffling the pages of his fathers letter like it might reveal some sort of secret code or message if it were read another way. 

There weren't, and it didn’t.

Farlen paced around the room, a deep frown cutting across his face. He was about to start on his fourteenth loop when he stopped and abruptly turned to his friends, “So what are we going to do about it?” 

“Do about what?” Avaleina asked, her voice muffled by how close her face still was to the glass of the window. 

“Do about proving them otherwise.” 

With a loud sigh Ava turned from the window to face the room again, “What are you talking about?” 

“If they think that we are not mature enough and that they cannot trust us, what are we going to do to convince them otherwise while we’re here?” 

Ava and Legolas exchanged glances, his significantly more skeptical than hers. 

Farlen continued, “We’re in Imladris! Lord Elrond hoards information and history like an extremely determined dragon, there has got to be at least a thing or two we could learn while we’re here.” 

Legolas’ skeptical look transformed into one of mild disgust, “So you want us to do homework while we’re here?” 

“No, Leaf,” Farlen corrected, “I want us to work on becoming indispensable.” 

“How does doing homework equate to becoming indispensable?” 

“Because then we can go around Thranduil and Ferdan, if they do not have faith in us.” 

“Around them?” Legolas asked, looking to see if Avaleina was making better headway in the conversation than he was.

She wasn’t.

Farlen’s spirit only continued to grow even in the face of his friend's confusion, “Yes! The only reason they can just send us away is because it doesn't really matter, none of us do anything particularly special. Nothing of conscience. It doesn't impact anybody else.” 

“But!” Farlen continued before either of his friends could react again, “If we make our knowledge and our brains indispensable, then eventually somebody will need our help. Whether Thranduil and Ferdan want it or not.” 

“You think we could find something like that here?” Avaleina asked, tentatively optimistic, “What would we even look for?” 

“Whatever we wanted, I guess.” Farlen said, adding after a second thought, “At the absolute least I’m sure that Lord Elrond would teach us some of his healing magic.” 

“I still have no idea what you’re going on about,” Legolas interrupted, “Explain it to me again, this time like I’m stupid.” 

“I already am,” Farlen said, “Because you are.” 

Avaleina finally left her perch by the window and made her way back over to Legolas, “He’s saying that while we’re here, we should learn everything we can that we can’t learn at home. We should learn healing magic, we should learn some of Erestors defensive spells, we should learn some of Glorfindel's battle tactics and strategies, more herbology, different kinds of mapmaking, anything and everything that we can think of. The more things that we know that others at home do not, the more in control of our lives we will be.” 

“Let me see if I’m understanding you correctly,” Legolas said slowly, eyes looking upwards not at the ceiling but at the thoughts swirling in his head, “We got sent her because we’re too troublesome and annoying, and you want us to spend the entire winter and half of spring solely dedicated to becoming even more troublesome and annoying?” 

Farlen made a face, “I prefer the term ‘indispensable’ “ 

Avaleina had her hands collapsed in front of her hopefully, and whatever thoughts of resistance might have lived on in the recesses of Legolas’ mind quickly vanished, “Alright, where do we begin?”  

 

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading! I would really love it if you could leave a review with some of your thoughts, I need the dopamine to finish more fics.

Have a lovely day!

Chapter 98: Dont

Notes:

Hello friends, and thank you for coming!

This chapter is significantly longer than usual (almost 3600 words) and I'm not too sure when or how that happened, but since I've been struggling so hard to get back into writing I thought I'd just roll with it. Hope you enjoy!

P.S (In the flash-forward I switch between using "Aragorn" Or "Estel" Depending on who's POV it is. Just in case anybody found it confusing :)

Chapter Text

The pond they had traveled to was fed entirely by runoff from the great river that flowed through Greenwood, the fact that it was the deepest Estel had ever seen was the sole comfort after being forced to stay inside the mountain for the past several days. It didn’t take Estel long to notice and take a silent mental note of Legolas’ best friend, Avaleina’s, lack of participation from the very moment they had arrived at the large pond. 

 

All the time spent inside made Avaleina’s lack of participation but especially the complete lack of interest highly suspect, made even worse in the face of the near relentless laughter and general playful chaos being enjoyed by every other member of their small troup. 

 

Was she not feeling well, perhapes? Did she not want to be here? Did she not want him to be there? 

 

Although he had noticed her absence immediately, Estel did not approach her immediately. Something told him that it was not a matter to draw attention to. Estel did not know why he felt that way, but had learned from his Ada that sometimes you just had to trust your feelings.

 

This felt like one of those times. 

 

So instead of asking her the moment he noticed her sitting by herself, or when the rest of the group had become fully engrossed in their game, Estel bided his time. Mostly because he hoped that she might join in on the fun later once their friends had calmed down, partly because if he did climb up onto the miniature version of a cliffside she had settled on, he could at least blame it on needing a rest as to not draw attention to her. 

 

That felt like the kind thing to do, and Estel really did want to be kind. 

 

And so he waited. 

 

And waited. 

 


 

Avaleina had known she had drawn the boys attention since practically the moment their group arrived at the local swimming area. She had thought about asking him what was so intriguing, but quickly decided against the idea almost before it had even finished forming in her mind. 

 

Thranduil had said they should work on the boy's self-confidence away from his brothers and other family, if he was to be a leader of men he couldn’t be too shy to speak to anybody. Estel needed to learn how to use his words and communicate with those he was not close to. 

 

This situation seemed like the perfect time for Estel to practice. 

 

And so Ava leaned back onto her elbows, legs stretched out in front of her, ankle crossed, and face turned towards the sun like a particularly satisfied sunflower; she waited. 

 


 

Finally unable to ignore the growing concern and curiosity, Estle began to make a measured approach towards the slightly less steep side of Avaleina’s rocky perch. Doing his best to appear causal while also trying to double check that he *wasn't* drawing attention to himself. 

 

A combination of tasks that proved more difficult than originally anticipated to accomplish simultaneously; ever the optimist, he persevered to the best of his abilities nonetheless. 

 

Eventually he managed to make it over to his destination, and scramble up to the small grassy outcropping that Avaleina seemed to have claimed as her own. Nobody stopped, nobody stared, and nobody questioned him, and so Estel chose to assume his mission of stealth had been successful. 

 

Avaleina gave exactly zero sign of any kind that she had heard, noticed, or cared about his approach, and Estel briefly wondered if she was asleep. Or perhaps she was ignoring him on purpose? Maybe she wanted to be left alone? Maybe this had been a mistake? 

 


 

Feeling his quickly appearing and even quicker growing anxiety, Avaleina decided that he had come far enough on his private battlefield against fear and shyness that she could meet him partway. With face still turned to the sun and eyes still closed she said to the boy, “If you have a question you might as well ask it, an answer cannot find the answer that seeks it, if it cannot be released from the walls that weaved it.” 

 

She wasn’t sure if he would understand exactly what she meant, the original expression was one that she often heard from Ferdan. It was in Silvan originally, and it was always a bit difficult to tell if things had been translated with the correct sentiment into Sindarin. Yet the urge to use the same phrase that had always been used on her when she was younger was irresistible. 

 

Idly, she wondered if this is what others meant when they said that one turned into their parents as they aged. She also wondered if that expression was only valid for parents of blood. 

 

“You’re not swimming with us.” 

 

“That’s not a question,” She told him, smiling a little to herself at how easily Ferdan’s words continued to flow through her, “That’s a statement.” 

 

“Why aren't you swimming with us?” 

 

Avaleina made an attempt at shrugging her shoulders, but since she was still leaning on her elbows the results were questionable at best, “I don’t swim.” 

 

She heard a small and well stifled noise that sounded pretty close to shock, “You can’t swim?” 

 


 

“Not can’t,” She corrected kindly, “Dont.” 

 

Since she was the one who had initiated the conversation and that she was still talking to him, Estel hoped that it was okay to sit down near her. His Ada had been very stern about telling him to always be respectful of his hosts, even if nobody from his family was staying in Greenwood for the duration of his visit, and Estel was doing his best to comply. 

 

He knew and felt most comfortable with Legolas out of everybody in Greenwood, but so far he really did like Avaleina. She was kind to him, patient, always made sure he knew what he was doing and where he was going. Plus, the same as Legolas, she appeared to always be in a good mood with jokes and cheer enough to share. 

 

There was something inherently comforting about her from the very second he had been introduced. 

 

“Well, what’s the difference?” 

 

“The former implies an inability,,” She finally turned her head to the side so that she could open her eyes and look at him, “The latter implies a lack of desire.” 

 

“Oh,” and then, “None at all?” 

 

Avaleina shook her head once with equal parts purpose and finality, “None at all.” 

 

This was a concept that Estel could not even fathom. He loved to swim. It was one of his favorite activities, and always had been. His mind could not comprehend any world or life where that might be otherwise for himself or for anybody else. How could somebody not like to swim?

 

“Did you ever?” 

 

“It is certainly possible,” Avaleina answered, either unaware or uncaring about the cognitive dissonance her words had stirred within the young human, “But if I did, it was long enough ago that I cannot recall ever having a strong desire for it.” 

 

“Didn’t you have fun? Didn’t you find it peaceful?” 

 

“It is certainly possible,” She said again, this time giving him a reassuring but teasing smile, they wanted to increase his confidence not terrify him. “But clearly whatever fun or joy I had found in it wasn’t enough for me to remember. Besides, even the thought of swimming takes what miniscule amounts of peace I’ve scraped together and drowns them.” 

 

The child's brain still seemed to be struggling to digest or believe the information it was being presented with, “So you, just, never go swimming?” 

 

“If I can get my way, yes, absolutely.” 

 

Estel needed almost a full minute to process this. 

 

Avaleina gave it to him. 

 

Eventually he settled on, “But you travel on the river all the time?”  

 

“Yes, *on* the river. Not in the river.” Remembering that humans needed more water in warm weather than elves, Avaleina wordlessly passed one of the many waterskins they had brought with them. Just in case. 

 

They weren’t trying to kill the boy from dehydration, either. 

 

Estel took several long deep drinks of water with the speed only a human with two hovering older elven brothers would be able to manage, “But what if you fall into the river?” 

 

“Then I complain bitterly about it for anywhere between six to twelve days.” 


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                           **** 20 years later**** 



Aragorn looked over the edge of the waterfall, hands resting on top of his knees while he attempted to catch his breath. He didn't need to speak to know what the answer would be, or exactly which glare he would receive out of the seven she used on regular rotation. Already numb to most dangers, he voiced the thoughts anyway, “We’re going to have to jump.” 

 

He did not see the look that Avaleina gave him, but felt it rattle every one of his bone’s nonetheless,, “Well, don’t let me stop you. By all means.” She bowed and made an exaggerated sweeping motion with her arms towards the edge overlooking the deep waters below, “Be my guest.” 

 

Hands still on his knees, Aragorn shook his hair out of his sweat covered face, “And what do you plan on doing?” 

 

“I’ll find another way down, if you’re so curious.” 

 

He shook his head, “Not fast enough you wont.” 

 

“Not with you constantly nattering at me!” Avaleina snapped, sending him glare number four. One of her personal favorites, Farlen usually got it at least five times a day. 

 

Finally standing upright, Aragorn glanced behind them towards the treeline looming about a dozen feet away. He didn’t see anything, but that did absolutely nothing to help calm the growing certainty that what they had been running away from all afternoon was about to crash headlong into them. 

 

“Ava, we’ve got no choice.” 

 

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, my young friend. There’s always a choice.” Aragorn gave her an extremely displeased expression, displeased enough that she felt compelled to add, “I’ve lived a decently long and happy life. Long enough, anyway.” 

 

Aragorn’s frown deepened and added a strong touch of annoyance, “You’ve lived a short, objectively miserable life and if we don’t jump now, they” Aragorn pointed behind him to the treeline for emphasis, “are going to make it significantly worse. 

 

He held his hand out to her and she glared at it. 

 

She looked behind them into the treeline, and glared at what she saw there too. 

 

She looked over the edge to the water below, and glared at that too, for good measure. 

 




Estel didn’t let his hand even so much as waver, even though Avaleina purposefully ignored it, “Imagine how Legolas is going to react when he finds out that in the end all you did was sit down, and give up.” 

 

She looked back into the treeline, quickly finding the swiftly and steadily approaching forms of two black figures. Headed right for them. Had her heart not been beating so quickly, she might have even been able to hear the twigs snapping under their feet as they ran. 

 

“Its deep enough I promise, I’ve gone diving into the pool in the fall when the snowmelt doesn't turn it into a waterfall.” 

 

“It being deep enough is not my concern here,” in an attempt to redeem the slight tremble in her voice she added in a much more strongly, “Besides, you’re taller than me, so if that’s going to be anybody’s problem, it will be yours.”  

 

“I’m one of the best swimmers in Imladris and easily the best among the Dunedain,” Estel made a show of offering her his hand again, “I promise not to let go.” 

 

Her legs were hardly able to hold her upright, and Ava could not recall the last time she was so frightened. Not about what was behind them, or even about jumping from this height, but at what waited for her at the bottom of the falls. 

 

She pointed an accusing finger at him, “If you do, not even Mandos will not be able to save you from my wrath. Do you understand?” 

 

He nodded once, she took his hand. 

 

They jumped. 

 


 

He had never seen Avaleina scared before, in fact, as far as Aragorn could recall he had never seen even her moderately concerned. Where most of Greenwood’s royal family (by blood or by heart) usually seemed to be overly reactive, in Aragorn's experience Avaleina had always gone the opposite way and was under reactive to most things. 

 

He almost felt guilty about encouraging her to jump. 

 

When they had first left the ground he had only been holding her hand, but at some point between then and hitting the water both of her arms had wrapped around him tightly. 

 

 It seemed fitting to do the same.

 

 If he was going to encourage her to jump off a small waterfall, the least he could do was try to make her feel as safe as possible while doing so. 

 

Right before they plunged under the surface of the water Aragorn took the courtesy of plugging her nose for her, since his right arm was already cradling her head against his chest to protect it from scraping or bumping the rocky bottom. 

 

Just in case. 

 


 

Avaleina’s brain allowed her the dignity of not registering the shock and horror of being fully submerged under frigid water until after they had already broken the surface and made it halfway to the edge of the deep pool. 

 

She also hoped it allowed her the dignity of not screaming directly into Estel’s ear on the way down, but she wasn’t overly confident about that. 

 

Her body remembered how to swim on instinct, the hours of swimming lessons taught by none other than Ferdan himself that were required to join the Amrath made sure of that. They had all been trained in the rapids of their forest river, this lake was nothing in comparison. 

 

That did not mean, however, that Avaleina was not thoroughly unimpressed in every capacity to be swimming. 

 

To his credit, not only did Estel not let go of her hand, he kept his arm around her waist as they continued to swim the remaining distance to the nearest exit. When the pair reached it, he waited until both her hands had a firm hold on the earth above them before he loosened his protective grip. 

 

He made to help push her fully out of the water, but a tree which had sensed her distress and reached a strong root out to wrap around her wrist in order to yank her out of the water was much faster than any human could have ever hoped to be. 

 

Turning back Ava reached back down for Estel but found he needed little help. The ledge was a much less intimidating task for his much longer legs and arms.

 

, “Must be nice being tall,” She commented bitterly. 

 

 Estel shook the water out of his ears and accepted her offer to haul him to his feet, “You really can swim!” 

 

Ava could hear the two figures approaching the top of the waterfall, she grabbed Estel’s hand and began to run in the direction of Imladris’ outer borders, “I told you that I could! What? Did you think that I was lying about it this entire time?”

 

“The thought did cross my mind,” Even with his much longer legs Estel was struggling to keep up with her pace.

 

“Less thinking, more running!” She glanced back to see if the two forms were emerging from the water but couldn’t see anything, “I refuse to have suffered through that for nothing!” 

 


 

"So who won?" Elrond asked as Avaleina and his three sons finally returned from their 'simple' training exercise, which had quickly developed into an ordeal that took most of the day. 

 

Legolas was seated across from Elrond, a small table with an unfinished chess game separated the two which forced Legolas to crane his neck up and to the side in an effort to see the new arrivals. An unfortunate stab wound had kept him from joining Ava and Estel’s team, and he didn’t need to attempt to stand up to know that Elrond would have prevented him from investigating further. 

 

The tree’s hadn’t been able to tell Legolas who had won, insisting that Avaleina’s mood did not match one that a winner would have, and not knowing was driving him insane. 

 

"They did." Elladan replied miserably the same time Aragorn triumphantly cried, "We did!" 

 

"And you two were so confident you had them this time," Glorfindel laughed, descending the five stairs that led up to the seating area of the large stone gazebo that overlooked the main entrance to Imladris,  "That's three losses, this is starting to get embarrassing. For you two." 

 

Finally catching a full glimpse of the victorious duo, Legolas finally understood why the tree’s had been unable to tell who had won. Even from here he could tell that his poor sweet Avaleina was more miserable than the both of the twins combined. 

 

Elrohir began,"We thought we had them trapped at the waterfall," 

 

Elladan finished, "because Ava can’t swim and Estel wouldn’t jump without her."

 

"Not can't. Don't" Avaleina corrected miserably, long black hair still entirely drenched, dripping, and hanging limply down her back. Its usual unruly curls temporarily defeated by what Legolas assumed was river water. Her arms were crossed in front of her and her back was slightly arched similar to an unhappy cat, “At least that was the case for fifty blissful years before today." 

“Apparently we were wrong.” They concluded together. 

 

Glorfindel pulled his light spring cloak which had been draped over the railing of the Gazebo and bundled Ava in it tightly, ensuring that her hair wasnt trapped inside so that he could wring out more of the trapped water, “Then you did very well, and should be proud of yourself.” 



“I feel compelled to clarify that I absolutely did not jump without her,” Estel announced while trailing behind Glorfindel and Avaleina, eyes briefly darting up to Legolas’ face to ensure that the prince believed him. 

 

“Yeah,” Elladan snorted from behind the group, “You probably pushed her off.” 

 

Before Estel could answer, Legolas did it for him, “No, she’d have killed him if he had. Probably while still on the way down.” 

 

“Then how’d you get her to jump?” Elrohir asked, skeptical. 

 

“Solid reasoning and confidence.” 

 

Avaleina added from where she had curled up into a ball next to Legolas, almost entirely concealed inside of Glorfindel's cloak, “And just a smidge of emotional blackmail.”

 

Estel made a slightly guilting looking face, “That too.” 







 




Chapter 99: Communicate

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“What does it even mean when you say that?” Elladan demanded, “I don’t understand.” 

 

Legolas gave him a mildly condescending look, “I literally cannot grasp what part of saying ‘The tree told me’ could have possibly confused you. Which word is the one to give you so much trouble, dear friend.”

 

“See,” Elrohir interjected, “We know what all of those words mean separately but I feel like our experiences when it comes Nature in general different greatly-” 

“-We don't understand how a tree can tell you anything. It's a tree.” Elladan summarized, putting an efficient end to the rest of his brother's sentence, earring a light slap on the shoulder from Elrohir who seemed to have done it more out of pure instinct and habit than any true annoyance.

 

Even so, Elrohir felt compelled to add, “Obviously we know that they’re alive and have their own song and spirit but we don’t understand how it communicates with you.” 

 

For a moment Legoals seemed genuinely at a loss as what to say in response, his mouth opening and closing several times before any sound actually came out, “Well for starters, the color of the leaves can tell you how much water is retained in the soil-” 

 

“Are you trying to tell me that you can tell where the herd of deer went a week ago because of the color of the leaves or the moss?” Elladan asked, ever the impatient one in his family. 

 

Legolas frowned at him, “What? No, of course not! Why would Moss care about which direction a herd of deer went a week ago, anyways?” 

 

“Thank you for that exceedingly intelligent response,” Elladan said dryly. He rolled his eyes to truly drive home his obvious displeasure before adding, “That clarified absolutely nothing at all. In fact, if you accomplished anything at all, it was to confuse us even more.” 

 

Legolas threw his arms up in the air with equal parts annoyance and exasperation, “I still don’t even know what you two need me to clarify! The tree’s speak, and I listen!” 

 

“But how do you find information from the tree’s?” Elrohir answered before Elladan could, “Do they write you a little letter and send it with a bird? Do their roots tap out cryptic messages below the ground that only you can feel or sense? Do they tell a squirrel and get that squirrel to do some sort of interpretive dance?” 

 

Legolas looked between the twin sons of Elrond with an expression of shock and disbelief, “Wait, have you two really have never spoken with a tree before?” 

 

Elrohir crossed his arms in front of him, squinting at Legolas suspiciously in an effort to determine if the Woodland Prince was playing some sort of sick joke on them, “Well I’ve spoken ‘at’ a tree on several occasions, but it never had anything to say in return.” 

 

“I - I - “ Legolas stammered, eyes wide in an effort to process this new information, “The thought had literally never occurred to me that your people would not possess the knowledge or capability of speaking with tree’s.” 

 

Elladan and Elrohir both stared at him dumbfounded, and Legolas returned the expression. Silence descended over the trio and the small patch of wilderness they had transformed into an overnight campsite while they all continued to stare at one another. 

 

Unsurprisingly it was Elladan that recovered first, “So this entire time you have been under the impression that we could be ‘talking to the tree’s’ and just haven't been?” 

 

“No!” Legolas answered, practically shouting, “This entire time I have been under the impression that at some points you DO talk to the trees!” 

 

Elladan’s shock grew, “Why would you think that?” 

 

“Why wouldn't I?” Legolas said, immediately defensive, “Everybody at home speaks with the tree’s, how was I supposed to know that the Noldor were deaf to the music of the forest?” 

 

Elrohir grabbed Legolas by the shoulders to forcibly move Legolas’ attention to him, “Are you telling me that the entirety of your people can speak to the trees and it's not some weird talent you’ve acquired?” 

 

“No, I’m telling you that the entirety of my people are connected to the forest every minute of every day.” Legolas shrugged Elrohir’s hands off his shoulders just in time for Elladan to spin him back to face the elder twin.

 

“But what does that mean ‘to be connected to the forest’?” Elladan demanded “You still have not answered the original question.”

 

“Well if you two could keep your mouths shut for longer than two and a half seconds so that I could think,” Legolas said, stepping out of arm's reach from both of the brothers, “I would have already had the answer for you!” 

 

“Ugh, fine.” Elladan said, crossing his arms in front of him. Elrohir doing the same at Elladan’s left side.

 

The grove was silent for a few seconds before Legolas asked, “What was the original question again?” 

 

“Valar help us.”  

 

“You’ve got to be joking.” 

 

The two sentences had come in such rapid succession that Legolas found himself unable to tell the difference between which twin had said what, an uncommon occurrence at best. 

So he spoke to both of them, “Well if you two hadn’t thrown a ten minute temper tantrum-”

 

“It was not ten minutes,” Elladan broke in just to scoff, “It was five at most.” 

Legolas gave him such a withering look that it would have made Thranduil proud, his voice dryer than the fall leaves beneath their feet,  “I didn’t realize that you had been counting this entire time.” 

“Alright, alright,” Elrohir broke in loudly enough to drone out any other voices, “Everybody relax for a minute, so that we can refocus on the matter at hand.” 

 

“Elladan can tell us when the minute is over since he likes counting so much,” Legolas said, still holding his  stony expression in Elladan’s direction. 

 

Elrohir threw his hands up in the air, “That is not relaxing or refocusing on the matter at hand!” 

“Which I had been trying to do but neither of you will tell me what the question was!”

Notes:

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

Chapter 100: Untouched

Chapter Text

They had not spoken to one another in over an hour, content to enjoy the wonderful summer day and the silent company of the other. Celeborn was immeasurably surprised when it was Thrandul that broke their compatible silence to ask, “Are you feeling better?” in a tone that was most commonly used on his elfings (that were no longer elflings). 

 

Celeborn tried but was unable to prevent himself from glancing over in mild surprise, “I do not recall ever mentioning that I was not feeling well, why do you ask?”

 

“Perhaps not,” Thranduil agreed easily, “But the only reason outside of Celebrian or a Celebration that we see you in our woods is when you are not well.” 

 

Slightly more determined not to fully look over, Celeborn settled for trying to glance at his cousin from the corner of his eye, but Thranduil still looked forwards, his expression mild and eyes lazily tracking some woodland creature that was playing the branches of a tree. 

 

“Hmm” Was all Celeborn said, more in acknowledgment of hearing the words than in any sort of answer to the question. 

 

He was correct of course. As Thranduil most often was. Celeborn did only visit of his own spontaneity when he did not feel himself. 

 

When the darkness of the world felt just a little bit too close, for a bit too long. When it felt like every aspect of existence had changed so much that there was nothing left for him to recognize. When everything he looked at seemed to be tinted through a thick layer of growing hopelessness. 

 

The irony was not lost on Celeborn that when he felt suffocated by darkness and swept away by change that one of the only places left on Arda that held comfort for him was the one place that was perhaps the most fundamentally overrun and sculpted by darkness. 

 

It has puzzled him for some time how this could be so, how his soul could find so much peace in a place that objectively had none of it. It had been Galadriel to suggest that perhaps it was not Greenwood itself that he found rest and comfort with, but with Greenwood's King. 

 

It had seemed obvious after she’d said it. 

 

Of course, of course it was Thranduil that brought him back to himself. 

 

For no matter what the world did to Thranduil or caused around him, Celeborn found Thranduil to always fundamentally remain the same favorite cousin that he had always been. And under his guidance and protection the soul of his people and the soul of his forest remained the same as well. Though their outside might be increasingly altered, the insides always remained the same. 

 

Behind all the scars on his body and his memory, when Celeborn looked into Thranduil's eyes he saw the same mischief that had danced within them since before he had reached his majority. When he heard Thranduil's laugh, for a moment, he could have been back in Doraith. When he looked beyond Thranduil's words that had grown more biting over the centuries, he found his actions to be driven by the same warm and all-encompassing heart inside. 

 

Celeborn knew that for many his realm was the place others sought for proof that resisting the touch of darkness was possible. But to him, sometimes, it didn't feel like resisting it. 

 

It felt like ignoring the darkness, twisting yourself into knots to keep yourself from seeing it. 

 

Celeborn searched for the creature that Thranduil was still watching, finding a young squirrel struggling valiantly to haul a third of a loaf of bread up a tree. Not succeeding at the task, yet not failing completely either. 

 

Below the balcony they had settled, sounds of others loudly enjoying eachothers friendship in the sunshine drifted up to his ears from somewhere nearby. Celeborn could not help but smile a bit at the infectiousness of their laughter. 

 

The world was changing. Growing darker. 

 

But at least here, everything and everyone remained as it should. 

 

“Yes,” Celeborn finally said, still watching the squirrel, “I’m feeling better.” 

 

“That’s good,” Thranduil replied, shifting about a bit in his spot. Still preoccupied with the squirrel who seemed to finally be making some progress, Celeborn didn't look over in time before Thranduil continued, “Because I’ve been waiting to do this for hours ever since Galion brought this out, but figured it would be in bad taste.” 

 

Then, Celeborn couldn't see or hear much of anything because as fruit pie had been shoved into his face at such velocity it compley invaded both of his ears. Well, he could hear one thing. 

 

Which was Thranduil’s delighted laughter, which sounded the same as it had for as long as he could remember. 

 

Untouched. 

 

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Chapter 101: Expectantly

Chapter Text

Glorfindel was sitting beside the remains of the fire from the night before, awake, alert, anticipating, and slightly suspicious. He had no idea what exactly it was that he was anticipating but knew that he ought to be anticipating something, which led to the suspicions. Because while he might not know everything there is to know about Woodleves, he knew enough to Woodelf body language to know to expect…. Something. 

 

Legolas had woken up before sunrise suddenly, for seemingly no apparent reason. Which, generally, Glorfindel would not have found suspicious since Woodelfs appeared to be one of the lightest sleeping creatures on the face of the planet. Except for the extremely well known fact that Legolas on his visits to Imladris regardless if they were within the borders of the city or not slept as deeply as a mortal or perhaps even the dead. 

 

So for him to wake so suddenly in the peacefulness of the wilderness, when even Glorfindel could not sense even a suggestion of dark creatures or intentions and not go back to sleep was cause for suspicion. 

 

As more time had passed since his waking, the more expectant, Legolas seemed to become. 

 

Leaving the solution to be that something or someone had woken Legolas in a manner that Glorfindel himself was deaf to. 

 

And so he continued to look about himself expectantly, refusing to let himself be surprised. Content to play a guessing game with himself in his own mind about what surprise was on its way to them, already knowing that asking Legolas would be a fruitless endeavor. 

 

If Legolas had a mind or desire to share something he always took the initiative to do so himself. 

 

Plus, it was always amusing to see Elladan and Elrohir surprised by anything and asking Legolas what had woken him so long ago would draw their attention to the situation.

 

And nobody wanted that.

 

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“Good Morning!” The greeting was soft and pleasant but the unexpected appearance of it caused two identical yelps of shock to be the immediate response, followed by the delighted laughter of a woodland prince. “It's nice to see you, too,” Avaleina said, crouching down on the ledge she towered over them on so that she was more than a shadow against the rising sun. 

 

Glorfindel was the second closest to her but recovered much quicker than Elladan did, standing swiftly and gracefully to his feet he approached the bottom of the ledge and held his arms up to her. Understanding his offer instantly, Ava sat on the edge of the ledge and leaned forward until he was able to just barely reach her ribcage. She eased herself off the ledge and into his awaiting strong grasp which lowered her gently and softly to the ground. 

 

“I thought that it might be you,” Glorfindel said, quickly returning the enthusiastic hug Ava gave him the moment after he had set her on the ground, doing his best not to lift her much shorter frame off the ground in the process.

 

One of the sources of the identical yelps pushed themselves to their feet pulling Avaleina away from Glorfindel and practically absorbing her into a fierce embrace of his own, putting no effort into keeping her feet on the ground whatsoever, “We always love seeing you!” 

 

“We also love not starting our days off with a slight heart attack.” Elladan finished his brother's already finished sentence, also standing up from the log he had been sitting on. 

 

But Legolas beat him to Avaleina, hugging her tightly but speaking to Elladan over her head, “I however, could happily start every single day of my life watching you shriek in terror and almost hurl your breakfast into the great beyond.” 

 

Legoals and Ava exchanged a few words to one another in either a different language or some sort of code and so Elladan took the opportunity to ask Glorfindle while he waited for his own hug, “What do you mean ‘I thought that it might be you’? How could you have ever guessed that?”

 

“For the simple fact she’s the only Woodelf I’ve ever unexpectedly ran into while in the Misty Mountains.”

 

“How common of an occurrence is that exactly?” Elladan asked suspiciously, finally and delightedly getting his greeting from Avaleina. 

 

Glorfindel shrugged, “I’ve never bothered to count.” 

 

The Twins united into one force once again to scoff at their mentor with identical disbelief. 

 

Glorfindel was entirely unphased and unaffected. 

 

Elladan seemed compelled to further articulate his displeasure, “I have never once believed you less than I do now.” 

 

“Somehow I think I’ll manage to scrape up enough will to survive to just make it through.” 

 

Elrohir snaked an arm around Ava’s waist again to give her an excited squeeze, “What on Arda are you even doing here?” 

 

She reciprocated whole heartedly, wrapping both arms around his shoulder and neck, “Legolas said that you two wouldn’t stop complaining the entire time through his last few visits that I hadn’t gone with him.” 

 

“And so naturally you thought that scaring us half to death in the middle of the misty mountain was the best course of action.” 

 

“It was the only course of action,” Ava corrected with a laugh. 

 

“How did you even find us out here?” Elladan asked, presenting the remains of their breakfast to her and not allowing her to refuse the offer. 

 

Glorfindel answered for her, “Please, you’re with a Woodelf. And other Woodelves can always, always, always find other Woodleves.” 

 

Before either twin could ask anything else Glorfindel added, “And no she almost certainly won’t or can’t tell you what she’s doing out here seemingly by herself. So don’t bother asking and forcing her to lie or be stern with you.” 

 

Elrohir held up his hand in surprise and a show of self-defense, “We weren’t going to ask anything like that!” 

 

Elladan reached out a hand and slowly lowered his brother's arms, “I was.” 



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Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, I really hope that you enjoyed it and I’ll see you in the next chapter whenever that ends up being :) 

I'd love to hear some of your thoughts or favorite parts, be safe out there and have a good day!

Chapter Text

“We were just about to start brainstorming what we were going to tell Oropher when-” Ferdan stopped in the middle of his own sentence without anybody interrupting him and turned away from Celebrian and to Thranduil with a newly serious face, “What is happening? What are they doing out there?” 

 

“Most likely something that's going to give us heart palpitations.” Galion answered unhelpfully but with full confidence in the answer. 

 

Thranduil was frowning, his head tilted to the right slightly and eyes fixed on nothing in particular in front of him. After a few moments he shook his head very soflty, “I don't know… it's hard to tell ... .even for me.They're talking so fast by the time it gets to me it's only bits and pieces.” 

 

“Who is talking too quickly, the tree’s or our elflings?” 

“Both.” Thranduil’s frown had not lessened.

 

Ferdan and Thranduil stood abruptly and raced for the doorway, Celebrain following them out of the now empty room and down the hall. Not entirely surprised to find that the three elves ahead of her were doing everything within their power not to go faster than a jog down the hall towards their destination. 

 o.o.o..o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 

By the time she reached the room they had disappeared to and took the liberty of inviting herself inside she found all three of them clustered in tense silence around a huge map that took up the entirety of a table that could have easily seated at least thirty.

Celebrain looked between the incredibly intense looking faces, and then back down to the exquisitely carved and extremely detailed three dimensional map of the Greenwood Forest. 

 

Extremely detailed. 

 

So detailed that Celebrian found herself slightly suspicious for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. 

 

Galion was frowning so hard it seemed likely he might even give himself a cramp. 

 

She knew it probably wasn’t the right time for a joke, but Thrandiul had once told her that every waking moment was a good moment for a joke and so Celebrain asked in an innocent tone, “Is the table going to do a trick?” 

 

Face not losing any of its blank concentration Thranduil still managed to snort with the hint of a laugh  in a response, “It’s already doing a trick.” 

 

Celebrain looked back down to the table, taking a few steps forward so that she was standing next to Thranduil and resting her arms on the railing that had been constructed around the table in the mirror of the Woodland King next to her. “Are you certain?” 

 

“Yes.” Ferdan replied, succinct as usual from across the table. 

 

“Can it do it again?” Celebrian asked, “I think I missed it.”

 

Snorting again Thranduil reached out to his left and grabbed Celebrians' right. The map in front of her began to immediately flood with flashes and explosions of color that streaked in different directions. 

 

It reminded her very much of Gandalf’s fireworks, but more coordinated. One might even say, suspiciously coordinated. 

 

“Neat trick.” None of the others said much of anything, “What does it mean exactly?” 

 

“Oh right.” Thranduil said, and then disembodied voices began to at first completely overwhelm her mind but then gradually became a stream continually slipping through her mind. Still too jumped to make out any specific words amongst the chaos. 

 

“Ferdan.” Thranduil said, gesturing sideways with his head in Celebians direction. Ferdan ignored him, pretending to either not hear him or not understand what he wanted. Thranduil sighed, and said with more sternness, “Ferdan.”

 

Finally he looked up at them, pushed off the railing with an “Ugh,” and extremely obviously rolled his eyes. Regardless, after he came to stand next to Celebrain and reached out to take her hand in a similar fashion to the way that Thranduil had, it was with equal gentleness. 

 

Most of the colors on the map faded away, and the voices she assumed Thranduil and Ferdan were focusing on finally became clear inside her mind. 

 

“It's one of your worst ideas yet.”

“We’re running out of time.”

“We’re too far away sti-” 

Too late.” 

“What do you mean-?!”

TOO LATE!” ~This stream of thought dragged through feelings of desperation and adrenalin that were not Celebrian’s own, accompanied by paranoid fear in the certainty about what was too closely behind her, and near overwhelming anxiety about something important being left behind.~~

 

As quickly as the voice left her mind, so did the feeling. “Apologies,” Thrandil said next to her, “I imagine the voices are overwhelming enough for you as it is, I’ll do better at blocking their other communications.” 

 

“Left, Left, Left-She’s going left” 

“Around- Cut her off.” 

“Can’t. The Bridge-.” 

 

Slowly she began to recognize the voices in her mind, not by how they sounded but by how they felt. 

 

Each color seemed to correspond with a voice, she assumed, starting from each person’s location in the forest and shooting out towards where the message was headed. There were other voices, dozens of them. But they were nothing more than a background cacophony now, indistinguishable from each other, melding together into indistinguishable background noise. Their colors all have faded to identical white flashes on the map. 

 

“You don’t need the bridge.” This was Avaleina, her messages sending ripples of yellow through the tree’s miles and miles away from where Celebrian stood before fading into nothing. 

 

“We don't fly!” This voice was the manifestation of Farlen, the color streaking a lilac color. 

Leaf, tell me you have oil and a flint?” Yellow streaked out towards where the other two were.

“I do.” Legolas replied, the streak of green meeting Avaleina’s streak of yellow halfway to their destinations. 

 

I’ll take the Fogway-” 

“Are you insane?”

“Surely, there are less painful ways to die.” 

 

All three colors met each other on the way, and Celebrian assumed this is what had been making it so hard for Thranduil to understand them earlier.  

 

“I agree with Farlen,” Ferdan said aloud but otherwise did not interfere with what was unfolding; miles and miles away from any help he could possibly offer if this went as badly as everybody expected it to,  “There’s got to be better ways to die.”

 

The fog is flammable.” 

“So are you!” “So are you!” 

“Then wait until I say to shoot before you shoot!” 

“I hate this plan. This plan is worse.”  

“Should've come up with a better one.” 

 

Then, the map went achingly void of both the shooting colors and the voices streaming through her mind. 

 

“I can’t hear them.” Galion whispered, seemingly afraid to break the newfound silence even though it had only seen in their minds this entire time. 

 

Thranduil shook his head, “Me either.” 

 

Celebian glanced anxiously between the other faces around the table, only mildly comforted by what she found there “What does that mean?” 

 

Ferdan shrugged, looking less forlorn than the other two, “Depends. Could mean the spiders got them but that’s unlikely. Could mean that they aren't communicating with each other, but that’s also unlikely. More likely that Avaleina got nervous about something intercepting their plan and shielded them, but that's a lot of excess energy. Most likely that something about the Fogway blocks that section of forest from the majority of the rest closer to home, and either they are talking and we simply cannot hear them or they are using a different form of communication to accommodate.” 

 

All eyes remained on the silent map in front of them. 

 

Not yet!” 

“Ava, they’re right behind-” 

“NOT YET!” 

They’re gaining on y-” 

 

The voices exploded back into her mind so suddenly, Celebrian jumped and certainly let out a startled yelp. The colors were so close to one another on the map they flashed for only seconds before disappearing.

 

“What even is that-” 

“Now! Now! Now!” 

“Is that thing even flammable?” 

“Can you jus--- Thank you.”

“Got it right in the eye.” 

 

Feelings of overwhelming relief flooded through Celebrian, it was impossible to tell if it was her own, Thranduil and Ferdans, or the elfings so far away. Possibly all three. There was a faint 'boom' in the distance, then through the window she could see plums of dark smoke bleeding into the air from somewhere in the forest far away. 

 

“Do you see her?” 

“I’ve got her.” 

“Is she burned?” 

“From the fog or the small explosion and raging fire?” 

“Does it matter?” 

I’m lightly singed on the edges.” 

 

On either side of Celebrian both Thranduil and Ferdan rolled their eyes and shook their heads in identical displays of exasperation. But they also both only barely managed to keep their quite snorts of amusement from developing into something greater. 

 

“Tern, did you get the villagers?” The yellow light signifying Avaleina’s message raced all the way back to where she had started from, and then several more miles away towards the border of the forest. 

 

“Yes.” Tern’s color was orange, streaking back to where Legolas, Farlen, and Avaleina were still clustered together, Most. Some, it was already too late. The cocoons had them.” 

 

 “ I’m fine, by the way.” 

 

Ferdan let go of her hand, and slowly the voices faded back into the indistinguishable background. He stepped away from the table and wandered over to the window, observing the smoke that still tainted the sky. :"I wonder what the unidentifiable creature was."

 

Galion broke his uncharacteristic silence, “I feel the need to defend ourselves and clarify that we do not often spy on them as such, even though the last ten minutes explicitly indicate otherwise.”

Chapter 103: Talent

Chapter Text

The Silvan Elves of Greenwood the Great had been rumored and had proven to possess a not insignificant amount of powers and tricks that eluded the other Elven nations. The most well known of course being their connection to all things that grew, but especially their connection to the forest of Greenwood. 

 

But as far as Glorfindel was concerned, the most impressive power and the one he was most envious of was their ability to fall asleep anywhere, at any time. 

 

Providing that there was another wood elf nearby, of course. 

 

The current example of this exemplary skill was Farlen, who was currently slumped in a comfortable chair in a startlingly uncomfortable position, yet snoring peacefully. Regardless of the calamity going on around him, as seemingly every member of Rivendell managed to all be present in the exact same place, at the exact same time. 

 

It was quite remarkable. Almost as remarkable as the fact that even through his peaceful snoring, and the smallest bit of drool dribbled onto his chin, he kept one hand securely attached to the bottom corner of Legolas’ shirt.

 

This was but one of the many places Glorfindel had witnessed Woodelves taking a nap in a place that he himself would never have been able to even become remotely drowsy in. The other places that always came to mind included: At the top of a waterfall, floating down river rapids on a thin raft, in a field during a rainstorm, and on the sidelines of an active battlefield. 

 

Perhaps he ought to start writing these down in a book somewhere, if for no other reason than his own entertainment. If he asked, Celeborn and Celebrian would likely have several amusing additions to add. 

Chapter 104: Couldn't

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

He couldn’t sleep. Which was nothing unusual, quite the opposite in fact. To be honest he couldn’t even remember the last time that falling asleep required anything less than three hours of futile effort, seven adjustments of bedding after too much tossing and turning, counting to one-hundred and back several times, and significantly more frustration than was conducive to bedtime hours. 

 

 Such were the problems of a brain that couldn’t turn itself off no matter how hard it tried to. That couldn’t stop obsessing and worrying and planning for inevitable future events that had not yet happened but still did its best to think of the potential unforeseen positives, 

 

Or perhaps the trouble laid in his heart that couldn’t quite get itself to believe in those positive, not after everything it had already struggled through. That couldn’t stop trying to prepare for how it might survive another piece torn off of it. Buried in another unmarked grave. Unsure if it even could survive something like that. 

 

Maybe it was his soul, that couldn’t even begin to fathom what feeling at ease or at peace might feel like anymore. Not even in sleep. A soul that feels so rigid and tense from the burdens of the world that it couldn't shoulder reliving the ones from the past too. 

 

He couldn't hear anything, it was too quiet. That must be the problem. 

 

With a loud groan of frustration he threw the covers off the bed and walked to his balcony doors, opening them both to let in the cool air. Unsatisfied when he couldn’t  hear the frogs or the crickets as loud as usual, it must be later than he thought. 

 

 He whistled to them anyway. First the crickets, and then the frogs. Pleased when they chorused back to him, and then continued to sing with each other. 

 

He went to step outside onto the balcony, but paused and turned back to grab the blanket off the bed. One couldn't sleep outside on their own patio in the early spring chill with nothing but their pajamas on with Galion around and not hear a thing or two about it in the morning. 

 

Laying one side of the massive blanket on the ground, he settled himself on top of it and folded the other side overtop of himself and nestled in. He couldn’t help but remember all the night he and Legolas had spent snuggled together in this exact spot after Greenwood had lost their Queen, the bed seeming much too large with her no longer in it. 

 

The long nights spent without her gentle humming were soothed just enough by the hum of the forest and its creatures didn’t feel entirely bleak and lonesome. 

 

Eventually, it became something they did simply because they enjoyed it. He especially enjoyed telling Legolas made up stories about made up constellations, retelling many that his own father had made up and told to him since Oropher couldn’t be here to do it himself. 

Slowly, thankfully, as the first birds began to add their songs to the remaining chorus, his mind, heart, and soul finally couldn’t resist the lull of sleep the body was so desperately screaming for. 

 

He would never know it, but when Galion found him a few hours later he couldn’t help but smile with fondness and adjust the blankets so that they were tucked securely around him, before creeping very slowly away and back into the bedroom. 

 

Greenwood could wait for another hour or two without its king.

Notes:

This was started at 3:51 AM, so I guess you could say the first paragraph especially was a personal attack on myself.

Thanks for reading!

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! I'd love to hear your thoughts or what your favorite part was.

Stay safe and a have a wonderful day!