Chapter 1, Departure

Legolas sat in the courtyard, watching a particular family.

He sat alone in the edge of one of the stairs in one of the kingdom's greeting courtyards, which were packed with tons of families, kissing and crying as they embraced their sons and daughters for the last time in some time...or perhaps forever. Legolas gulped at that thought. He bit the edge of his cheek to avoid trembling in public, hugging his rucksack closer to him. Even though nobody was probably going to see him, his father wouldn't be happy if he defied royal protocol.

But he isn't here, so how would he know? thought Legolas bitterly.

He watched the family even more, longing shining in his blue eyes. The prince was usually granted anything he wanted, but what the family had was something he would never get, or at least for sometimes. He gave a low sigh and then leaned forward, head settling on one of his hands as he watched them more thoroughly.

It was relatively large, but Legolas soon predicted it was because it was made up of two families. One of them included a red-headed elleth with a blond-haired elf, which were possibly the first pair of parents. Two sandy-haired elves of different heights stood next to them and they ruffled an elfling's reddish mane, one who was dressed in the cadet uniform and held a similar rucksack like Legolas. He was incredibly short and wrinkled his freckled nose in annoyance, although he held an enthusiastic dimpled grin. Another family included two brown-haired elves who were lecturing a tall but skinny brown-haired elfling, with Legolas' same cadet uniform. The mother's belly was swollen, meaning she was pregnant, but this did not stop her from looking as intimidating as the father, although just as loving and preocupied.

Bored, Legolas stood up with his rucksack slung against his back and looked around, jumping the remaining steps down and breathing the crisp autumn air. Why was it suddenly so cold he wondered? He tightened his cloak around him and suddenly the armor felt too uncomfortable. He sighed, trying to shift the collar around, but found that his neck was suddenly itching. He groaned, suddenly giving up and collapsing cross-legged on the dirt, his throat made a big ball of nerves.

He thought of his father's speech yesterday during the feast dedicated to the new novices, thinking of how much was at stake right now. This was the real deal. This was no game between elflings, no fantasy, no foreign dream. But...this was what he was supposed to be. This was what he was always meant to be and he wouldn't regret it. Still, his father's words crashed inside his head, sucking the brain and the confidence out of him, making him slowly doubt his choice.

"-I know we have had hard times. I know it, because I am no fool. I see it in the restlessness of the forest. I see it in the scarred eyes of our soldiers who return from fighting the darkness, who might just be your sons, daughters, and kin in the future, see it in your eyes. I see how nervously you look at your youths right now, at how begrudgingly you let them go, at how worriedly you shake your heads are their enthusiasm, because you know this is not going to be an easy journey. Not for them, not for you.

And you are all right to think this way.

Your kin will go through the most grueling training they will ever go through. They will be exerted to the maximum, and left begging to be dragged home at the end of the day. They will shower in their own sweat and be left alone at night to massage and heal their own wounds and bruises, well-earned by hard work. They will cry themselves to sleep and struggle to wake up in the mornings, knowing the tedious process of training will be repeated for the rest of their novice training. Their weaknesses will be eradicated and ridiculed by their training masters.

Your kin will be racked and tormented by nightmares and homesickness. Some of these youths will be strangers to each other. They will miss their homes, miss the sweet commodities of a real bed and a hot meal, of a fresh bath and the smell of a clean forest, untouched and protected from the darkness. They will miss their families and wonder when they will be able to see them again. They will miss their loves and their friends. They will be tormented by their fear and nervousness, wondering how they will go through the training or what their outcome will be.

Your kin will suffer. They will see their comrades, their brothers and sisters, die. The weak will fall, the strong will persevere and bear the victims' memories in their hearts forever. They will cry at night when they remember their deaths and have to kill savagely in order to avenge them. They will kill of course. Spiders and orcs and everything that is a spawn of the darkness.

In the end, you might think you are sacrificing your children, especially after what I have said right now. You might think that the treasures you are giving will not be useful and will be forgotten once they turn to dust. But I can assure you...that is not the case. Your children and your kin's lives will not be thought of in vain. They will be fought for, honored and cherished deeply. Their names will come under the greatest respect Mirkwood can offer.

It is not sacrifice. It is duty. It is passion. It is love.

And your kin will be rewarded. They will fight as brothers and sisters. They will fight like never before. The deaths and suffering they go through will only fuel them, like coals in a stove, churning a fire inside them. They will work together towards Mirkwood's former glory. Towards a better tomorrow. Towards a better future. They fight to see their loved ones and friends safe. And this is just the first step of a wide journey ahead.

That, is why we are currently celebrating."

Suddenly, a horn burst out and Legolas looked up. The novices were already finished with their goodbyes and were lining up to leave, their kin watching them with tearful eyes.

"Oh, I do hope I'm not late! I'm really, really sorry Legolas. I nearly forgot but I wouldn't! Not ever! I was just talking with this idiot from father's council about a mistake in one of the farming records for some nearby villages. We're planning to do a check for corruption amidst the village chiefs and-it's a long story, but in the end...I am so terribly sorry."

Legolas sighed, turning around, although he couldn't help but let some disappointment drip inside his voice. "It's fine. But we're leaving in a few minutes, so we don't have much time left."

Thalos Thranduilion, eldest son of Thranduil and heir to the throne, groaned at himself and facepalmed himself lightly, offering a goofy apologetic smile at his little brother, who was trying his best not to look bothered by his older brother's tardiness. Legolas had wanted to get some helpful advice from his wise older brother...but it seemed it was not the case. After all, they had perhaps two minutes left.

"Why does this always happen to me?" he sighed. Then turned to Legolas. "Anyways...well, this is it, isn't it little brother? You're finally growing up. I swear one day you were still struggling to escape your crib, now you're escaping the stuffiness of the palace!"

"I grew up a long time ago," sighed Legolas.

Thalos sighed as well, his gray eyes turning darker. "I suppose. So...anything you want to say? After all, I'm afraid we aren't going to speak to each other in a long time. And you can't even send letters until your third month, so if there's anything, speak now."

Legolas gulped. He wished he could just drop everything and weep into his brother's arm. He wanted to get out that choking feeling in his throat, calm the nervousness in his fingers, the shaking in his legs and let his hot tears flow. He wanted to tell his brother how worried he was and how he didn't really think he could do this anymore. How he regretted this and wanted to go back. How unsure he was and how he needed Thalos' support.

But he'd already made his choice.

"Honestly, I'm fine," he lied swiftly. "Don't worry about me. If anything happens, I'll send you a letter anyways. Thank you for the letter kit by the way."

"S'all right leaflet! I know how hard writing a letter is. When I was your age, I once had to send a letter using only a leaf and...some other substances. Mother was hysterical and almost sent half of the Royal Guard to look for me, thinking I'd been kidnapped. Turns out I was just lost and alone and I'd forgotten my quill at the tent."

"Too much information, Thalos."

"Oh, right! Sorry," his elder brother grinned goofily. Then, his face turned serious. "But it seems my gift-giving session is not over yet. I still have something else to give you before you leave."

Suddenly, whipping a box from behind him, he showed it to Legolas. Opening the dark obsidian frame, Legolas' eyes started watering. His breath stopped. His hand lingered on top of the box, where in the cushioned inside lay two beautiful golden knives, sharpened to perfection and glimmering with silver light, shimmering with proud elven craftsmanship, especially at the hilts. In each blade, there was a small carven inscription in a silvery color in Sindarin, which said:

"A true warrior cannot act without only his heart or only his mind."

He took a ragged breath, looking at Thalos in wide eyes as his older brother cast him a small affectionate glance. Legolas ignore the barks of the elves as they had to tear the elves from their parents as they started lining up and being assigned their mounts. "T-These are Nana's knives."

"Yes," Thalos replied. "Nana gave them to you for your birthday when you were young...before you know what happened. Adar confiscated them from you though since you were too young to have them. But now, I decided to give them to you. After all, you are their rightful owner. I had to fight like a hellhound to convince Adar...but hey! Consider it as an apology for coming late."

"I-" Legolas was at loss for words. Gently, he put the knives in his empty sheaths and looked at Thalos with adoring eyes. "T-Thank you."

"No worries! Well...you should be going then," said Thalos, watching as nearly everyone was already mounted and a few horses roamed around, looking dejected as they looked for their respective owners.

"I-I think so," whispered Legolas.

Suddenly, he found himself in a tight embrace. Buried in his brother's muscular chest, he smelled his brother's scent: sweat, dry parchment, mint and sesame. A muffled whisper against his hair, his brother whispered, "Be safe, Legolas. I love you, you know that? Try not to get killed."

"I'll tell the Valar to give me some luck and try!" he said a bit sarcastically as he separated from his brother and realized everybody was mounted. If he didn't go now, he would be late. His friends, the twins in Imladris, had told him humor was always a good way to lighten up bad situations. Then, he saw his brother was dead serious and sobered up too. "I will. I really do promise. I love you too."

"All right...do you have your hairbrush?"

"Thalos!"

"Fine, fine! Go little bluejay. Just don't forget to write about how you keep your hair so great!" winked his brother, pushing him ahead towards a new world, a new path.

Legolas rushed to his horse, quickly jumping on as the gates opened. Some novices frowned at him but he ignored them. Nervousness was quickly replaced by curiosity and excitement and as much as he wanted to look back...he didn't.

O-O-O

AN: Hi! Haha, this is just a little side project I wanted to make. All these chapters are not going to be very long. Just thought some of you needed to see some more Legolas as a young cute novice! :) But there will be a major conflict, so beware...

I might not update a lot, but I WILL so do keep in touch! You can do that by just clicking the favorite, follow or review button! Thank you so much! I totally appreciate anything you have for me, except for flames of course. Don't hesitate to PM me for suggestions either.

( And I got the title by an awesome Taiwanese TV show I watch, "My Freedom Years," so if you guys want, take a look! )