Author's Note:

Disclaimer:Do not own in LOTR. All OCs belong to me.

Warning:Rate T for safety.

This is NOT romance. Kindly respect this viewpoint.

All of my LOTR/Silmarillion stories are interconnected but you do not need to read all to understand one another.

Flames not appreciated. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Enjoy!

Do not forget to review! :)

~S~

They barely remembered much of him. He was tall, with a small shy smile on his lips. He was aloof, with his hands mostly clasped behind his back whenever they were around him. He did not converse or play much with them, even if they hugged him around the knees or pressed against his side while he sat or curled up on his lap. He would only pat their heads and murmur some soft words and that was all.

Truth be told, they did find him forbidding throughout the years since their first memory of him. He was not one to rush to them whenever they fell off a tree or tripped down the steps or stumble during their play. They could not make out much of him, except that he was not an enemy but he was not exactly a friend either. They did see him converse with their father, laughing and chatting amiably and without any reservations, but that was all.

That was who he was. Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, one of the Nine Walkers, and the Lord of Elven Realm in Ithilien Forest. That was the only side they ever saw.

If he was comfortable with any of their age fellows, it was either Elboron, who was the eldest of all of the new generation, or Elfwine, who had shared a life-threatening experience with the quiet Elf.

As the years went by, however, he seemed to take more and more an active role in their lives.

The daughters of Aragorn and Arwen were famous for their beauty that grew rapidly as they approached adulthood. Their parents were worried and had kept discreet talks with others to share their concern. Men were starting to hover nearby like flies towards honey, and their daughters were as naïve as they were young.

"You are using me." They had once overheard Legolas say in his usual dry humour to their father, who laughed. They did not understand what he meant.

Legolas became that formidable sworn uncle, his thin but muscular frame with an unsettling gaze becoming a wall of protection for the princesses. His stare was hard to match, and all too often men with evil intentions would lower their gazes and slink away under Legolas' watchfulness.

The girls, however, did not comprehend the reason behind Legolas' protectiveness and complained mightily with their father, who merely silenced all of them with a look.

One of them, Baineth, who was in the middle and was famous for the startling resemblance with her mother in mortal form, was particularly taken with a man who had been wooing her. Legolas knew his attentions were false, and disapproved of him completely. Aragorn did not even bother to look at the man when he told his daughter that she was not to see him again.

Baineth remembered crying bitterly throughout the evening but as night fell, she received a letter from the man to come see him in his house. Donning a cloak and pulling the hood over her head, she used the shadows to creep out of the Citadel and finally reached the man's house… only to find him with his friends and the door bolting behind her to keep her from escaping.

What they would have done, she dreaded to think but she soon realized she was not alone as the men had thought and hoped. A cloaked figure entered the house by jumping cleanly through an open window, his dual knives unsheathing as he did so. Within half an hour, the men regretted their foolishness, for they lay on the ground bleeding heavily from numerous small wounds that left them helpless. Legolas pulled back his hood, face tight in anger.

"I would have killed you," Never had Baineth heard such harshness in Legolas' tone as he grabbed the man who had made his advances towards the princess. "I would have killed you were it not for the fact that the lady is in this room." He let him go and kicked him roughly before enveloping Baineth in his arms. He carried her swiftly away from the house and in the gardens of the Citadel, she wept heavily in her shock and betrayal. She expected reprimand or scolding from Legolas, who had been warning her for weeks, but the Elf only held her close. Years later, she found out that he had been frightened out of his wits as well, for he had come to her chamber to apologize and explain himself for his decision, only to find it empty. The discarded note was found and he ran with his haste, for he knew the hearts of men.

Now Baineth thought, smiling a little as she heard laughter of her son echo, mixed with that of her husband. She married, with the bridegroom meeting Legolas' approval. Her husband loved her and honoured her. Even on her wedding, he stood there, quiet and unobtrusive.

"You hurt her," she overheard him whisper to her new husband when he pulled him into a farewell embrace. "And I will make sure you will never have children." The bridegroom pulled back white in the face and Baineth held back a smile.

Aglareth, the eldest of all the King's daughters, remembered Legolas' stubbornness. While Legolas was easy-going with the boys of Faramir or Aragorn or Éomer, he was particularly strict with the girls. Whenever they visited his Realm, they always had to follow his rules. He was unpredictable as well. They might be having a casual morning outside the city walls with the cloth spread out and dainty food to eat when he would suddenly arrive and order his Rangers to take them all back into the city. They had once gone to visit friends living near the Bay of Belfalas, only for Legolas to suddenly turn their carriage around make for some other place on his will. And even if they raised their voices in complaint, he would immediately interrupt them, and that hurt, because he was a soft-spoken Elf.

She remembered hating it. She would all too often protest against Legolas accompanying them on any occasion, only to meet her mother's cold stare that reminded her she was going too far.

Years passed by, and a more mature Aglareth soon found out the reasons for all of Legolas' action. The time when he ordered them to return to his city was because they found an unexpected nest of orcs nearby and he feared for their safety. His sudden change of plan when they visited friends in various places of Gondor was either because of news of bandits or an incurable sickness spreading in the area. He always had a reason.

He was not perfect, for he always had trouble making peace with Taesel, who was the wildest of all Arwen's daughters. When she had reached adulthood, their squabbles would often be heard through the corridors. These were the few times when they heard Legolas' voice rise in volume. Taesel hated the Gondorian court, for she did not fit into the mould of a noblewoman and would frequently take part in lonely rides and disappearances from the Citadel that would turn into a panicked search for the princess. It was only some years after Taesel started her rebellious nature that Legolas' temper finally broke when she disappeared for three days without any mention and returned, fine and safe after Legolas sent out all of his people under his disposal to look for her. One sentence led to another until Legolas slammed his fist against a table causing the pitcher to jump and crash into the floor, breaking into many pieces.

The sight of Legolas, whom they all unconsciously acknowledged as their soft-spoken, shy protector losing his temper frightened Taesel more than anything else and she fled. She was not there to see Legolas stumble back against a wall and bury his face and his hands, regretting what he did. She sought refuge with Dorián, Legolas' childhood friend, who listened quietly to what she had to say and consoled her fears.

"He will not hurt you." Dorián assured her, pity welling up inside him as he looked at her. Poor thing, she had just become full-grown and she could not help who she was. It was in her nature to wish for freedom that the Wild offered her. She was that restless being that once stayed in her father's personality. But all the girls looked up to Legolas, whether they knew it or not. He gave her a steaming cup to drink and let his wife stay with her.

When evening came, Legolas finally reached Dorián's house. Taesel remembered her hands trembling when she saw him standing in the doorway. All of a sudden she noted his tall height, his firm jawline, his strong hands and muscular frame, all of which showed his fighting prowess. Then she saw regret wedged deep in his eyes. Legolas approached her carefully and sat down beside her. He held up both of his hands for her to see.

"They will never hurt you." Legolas said, his voice dropped to that same gentle tone that she always knew. "You need not fear me. Forgive me, I was afraid for you. I thought-we all thought you had been taken. I could not bear to see the children of my sworn brothers harmed."

Her fear lessened, though it did not completely disappear, but she found a friend in Legolas after they made their peace and she did not trust anyone more than she did him.

Dureth was the youngest of all the daughters and she had the most contrasting name. She was anything but sombre, born so late that Aglareth was married and expecting. She was a happy, trusting child, with bouncing black curls and a wide, opening smile that instinctively made others smile as well. When Arwen found out she was expecting, Legolas raised his eyes up at the sky in mock-weariness. He had already gone through the drama of her previous daughters and here he was sure was another daughter.

"Why?" Legolas asked the sky, making Arwen laugh. "Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this?"

But if Legolas could be truthful to himself, then Dureth was the one he was most fond of all Arwen's daughters. She had a youthful laugh and her continuous chatter kept his mind from wandering elsewhere. He tried to maintain the same gruff manner he had with the other girls (many of whom were married or getting married by then) but he found he could not do so.

"She is his favourite niece." Aglareth said, winking at her sisters when they visited (in Legolas' words, 'invaded') his wing. They had all referred to him as uncle.

"I do not have a favourite niece." Legolas' protesting was feeble and it soon drowned out under the load of teasing and ribbing he soon received from them all.

She was alone to have the courage among all her sisters to enter his study in his Realm while he was working. She would laugh and smooth his brow when he would scowl while reading reports. "Smile," she said, smiling brightly when Legolas looked up at her. "Tomorrow is another day."

"Of reports." He would add to her statement, muttering under his breath. Dureth would laugh and it would make him smile.

That was how it was. Life went on, laughter mixed with their daily lives. Until Legolas' time came.

oOo

"Must you go?"

Legolas turned to his side, seeing Aglareth standing beside him. Her hair was greying, and there were wrinkles starting to form around her eyes. He gathered her in his arms, and she returned the embrace tightly. Legolas closed his eyes, remembering her when she was young and in need of comfort after something happened.

"I cannot stay." Legolas said. Even as he spoke, he felt his grief eat him from inside. Éomer had died years ago, and with him went both Pippin and Merry. Sam was long gone. Gimli would go soon. Faramir he buried himself and Éowyn was withering away. Arwen had fled, nowhere to be found. And then with it came the longing, that fierce longing, to see his father and mother, his betrothed, his former mentor. "Oh, little one." He said soothingly, feeling her shoulders tremble as she shed silent tears. He rarely ever called any of them with their names, preferring to use endearments like 'little one' or 'youngling'. "Hush, we may meet again, someday."

"Can you not stay for a few more days?" She pleaded, pulling back. "At least until Eldarion is capable of running his kingdom and we have finished our mourning."

"I fear I will be far too gone by the time it happens." Legolas replied. Aglareth knew in her heart he was right. There was opacity in him. It was as if all the grief and aches he had held for the years he had lived were returning to plague him. No, he could not stay. Doing so would risk his life.

He longed to say farewell to them all but some of them passed away some years before. Taesel died in a heroic act of saving two children from a burning building. But she herself could not escape the flames. She died as she lived, a wild child but heroic and courageous in her right. Dureth, poor child, died in Legolas' arms when the sweating sickness seized her with a chokehold so strong that not even the Elven healers could save her.

"Smile," she said feebly to him when her sanity returned deep into the night. Her weak hand tried to smooth the furrow on his brow. "Tomorrow is another day." She was wise for one so young. And he had nodded off for just a moment beside her bed, and that was all it took for Dureth to die.

The memories seized him with such cruelty that his grief renewed itself and he felt the stabbing pain in his heart.

"Oh little one, I cannot stay but ask me again and I will."

Legolas was never capable of looking after children, something he had argument with his sworn brothers every time they met. But Aragorn, Faramir, Éomer and the Halflings were mean in their own right, and often he found himself saddled with their children at one point or the other. The years gave him experience and he found he was particularly good in being a protector. And that was what he became to his sworn brothers' children. He could not bear to see any of them in anguish. So if Aglareth would say the word, he would stay, against his own wisdom.

She opened and closed her mouth in an effort to get the courage to say yes but then her shoulders slumped.

"I cannot." She whispered. "I dare not destroy your happiness for the sake of ours. I cannot dare. I fear to come to your chambers one day and find you gone, Faded."

He enveloped her into a tighter hug.

"Thank you." He whispered, for he would not have had the heart to say no to her request again. He wiped her tears with his thumbs. He had already spoken to the other princesses and Eldarion, and he suspected Aglareth came on their behalf, in an attempt to persuade him to linger.

"Little one, fair and small." He said teasingly. Aglareth smiled. It was a special sort of endearment he kept only for Arwen's daughters when they got married and returned to their mother now and then to speak on the troubles of domestic nature. He would tease them, calling them little or small. It always made them smile, for they felt as though they were children again, playing in the nursery past their bedtime and Legolas not even bothering to tell their maids or their parents of their mischiefs.

"I am hardly little or fair." She replied, touching her eyes where the wrinkles were.

"You will always be little and fair to me. All of you." Legolas said.

A shout in Elven drew their attention to the ship that was now ready to set sail. Gimli was already aboard, too old now to walk without help. Dorián stood at deck, his wife and family below deck. The other ships were ready as well, all boarded. He was the only elf left on land.

Once again, Aglareth fought the urge to burst out and tell him not to leave. She could see the fragility in his eyes. Strange; she always remembered his eyes to be strong, proud, and unbreakable.

He pressed his hand against her head in comfort and then turned, walking up the wooden plank to board his ship. Her heart caught in her chest when he turned.

There was a smile of relief on his face.

She raised her hand in farewell and the Elven ships readied to set sail.

~S~

Author's Note:

Update 2015: Rechecked and updated in a long mission to make my stories more enjoyable. :)

Older Notes: I always considered Legolas (well, my perspective of Legolas) to be something a like a guardian for his sworn brothers' children. He is a shadow, always present but never intrusive. He is there to help, to protect.

On his temper; I always considered that the Elves of Doriáth had some sort of a temper that caused them to hold grudges quickly. Thranduil and Oropher were both like this but Legolas learned from their mistakes and kept a tight hold on his temper that only manifested when he is either very much afraid or faced something devastating.

Dorian is an OC I use in my stories. His former mentor is Fion, another OC. His betrothed is currently unexplained in my stories.

Good? Bad? Tell me what you think!