Restoration II: The Story Continues ...

by Fianna

Note: Yes I have returned for more, how much more not sure as yet, as the muse flings ideas and thoughts into my head. I've a bit of time coming for the next few weeks so hopefully things will flow quickly and happily from my gypsy.

Hugs to all who follow me, thank you so much.

Fianna

CHAPTER ONE:

Thranduil stood on the edge of the sweeping platform that held his throne, a view that should have lifted his spirits, should have made him smile with deep satisfaction, yet it did not. Indeed, instead the sight of the cavern before him with its multiple levels and graceful arching bridges left him feeling oddly bereft.

He couldn't understand it, tried not to dwell on the odd feeling at all, yet it sat in the back of his mind and would not be denied.

With a deep sigh he turned from the depths of his city caverns to face his son.

"Ada," Legolas murmured, his blue eyes narrowed as he studied Thranduil, a knowing look flashing briefly across his face. "You cannot fight it."

"I can, of course," Thranduil returned. He brushed a hand across his chest, smoothed a long strand of hair back from his face, yet could not effect the nonchalance that once came so easily. He frowned, pausing to reflect on this and heard Legolas laugh softly, if briefly at the look Thranduil leveled at his son.

"Truly, Ada, you are changed by this journey."

Thranduil sighed again and smiled wryly. "Perhaps. But I am home now."

"Aye, with a new captain to remind you of what you may have left behind." Legolas leaned forward. "There is something you have not told me of yet."

"And will not," Thranduil assured him with a faint shiver. He would tell no one of the Baker or her antics. It was bad enough Sweeney knew. It gave the half-elven Captain an edge Thranduil did not like but could not change. "I have returned as I must. You may go and do whatever it is you do."

Legolas hid a smile behind his hand, leaning back in the throne he had not yet reliquished, taking the chair before Thranduil could and with a surprising ease that had made Thranduil lift a brow in amusement. Perhaps being in charge had not been as bad as Legolas had expected or admitted. "Returned, aye, but not as you were. What happened, Thranduil? Do not tell me you and Haldir are fast friends now."

Thranduil sniffed faintly, and evaded the intent blue eyes following his steps. "Of course not, Haldir and I were companions in that venture, nothing more."

Legolas nodded, his gaze measured. "Uh huh."

"Indeed," Thranduil waved an airy hand, turning once more to the safer view of his caverns. "I am much relieved to be back. Surely you have missed me?" He glanced back to find Legolas studying his fingernails.

"Not so much," Legolas replied with an equally airy smile. "It was not as bad as I expected."

Thranduil lifted a brow, eyeing his son. "And now?"

Legolas rose to his feet, crossed the two steps that separated them to drop a hand to Thranduil's shoulder. "I intend on staying until I know what happened. Something is different about you and I wonder." He winked, earning a snort from Thranduil. "I find the thought intriguing, changing my father so subtly yet so noticably." Legolas touched his brow and stepped back.

"I am as I was," Thranduil insisted, turning away from the keen gaze. He frowned, rubbing a temple with a growing ache behind it. "Indeed I..." he turned to find the platform empty, Legolas a faint shadow that decended the steps below. Groaning, he folded himself abruptly into his chair to look out, fingers propped under his chin to contemplate just how to avoid his curious son.

Sweeney stood on the stone wall arching over the raging river below him, breathing in the cool air wafting up from the churning water, eyes tightly closed. He had not expected to miss the open air, could not find fault in the accomodations provided by the elves, yet found the heaviness of the caverns disturbing enough that he ventured outside as often as he could.

He could understand the reasons why Thranduil had chosen such confines, yet he could not imagine living so long underground. He let out a deep breath and opened his eyes, aware of the elven guards behind him, aware more of their curiousity.

None had complained so far as he knew of his rank, or that he had taken Tauriel's place at Thranduil's side. Perhaps it was a good measure of Thranduil's control that none had not, yet he could feel the glances, heard the murmurs as he passed.

The journey from Lorien had been relatively uneventful, the river a constant companion, their path along its edge long and arduous as the journey there had been. They had fought a few orcs along the way, roaming bands of creatures scattered by the war with no leader among them. It had relieved the boredom, had proved to Thranduil that Sweeney was willing and able to protect him as he must.

Sweeney had done so without thought, accepting the role of Thranduil's captain with pleasure. Yet as the days passed he had wondered at the reasons why Thranduil had chosen him, had seen the elf lord studying him with narrowed eyes, as if the journey were a test, and Sweeney not yet graded on whether he had passed.

He shrugged off the memories, shifting the bow at his side with a grunt of annoyance. He had agreed to come. It would take time for the elves to accept him, he knew that. The fact that he was only half-elven made little difference. Or so he hoped. Perhaps the blood made him work a little harder at proving his worth. It was always that way. Today was no different.

A hand on his elbow made him turn his head, brow lifted at the touch.

"Thranduil has called for you." The elf at his side stepped back, voice raised over the noise of the river.

Sweeney nodded his thanks and turned back to the arched opening that led into Thranduil's city, shivering faintly as he stepped into the shadows. He walked rapidly along the stone corridor, the elf a step behind, the breeze drawn from deep within the earth ruffling the short strands of his hair along his cheek. He brushed at the tickle, glanced back at elf briefly. So different, yet so similar too, Sweeney wondered what the elves thought, wondered how much they truly accepted.

He ran lightly up the long stair to the platform above, loosening the grip his fingers had on the bow. He stopped at the top of the stair, heard the elf turn away a few steps below on a bridge that crossed underneath. He took a deep breath and stepped onto the platform, coughing faintly as if he needed to draw Thranduil's attention.

"I know you are there," Thranduil murmured quietly.

"Indeed," Sweeney agreed. He settled the point of his bow between his feet to wait Thanduil's orders.

The elf did not turn around, but remained looking out. "Have you settled? The room is acceptable?"

"My accomodations are excellent, my lord."

Thranduil turned his head slightly, enough Sweeney could see a faint curve of a smile. "As if you would complain if it were not."

"I might," Sweeney countered. "But you do not believe that I would."

"I don't know what to expect from you yet. Nor do my elves. You sense their wariness."

"Of course," Sweeney shrugged. "I am not fully elven..."

Thranduil turned around. "No you are not. And it is this that makes my elves wary, for they know me well."

Sweeney wasn't sure how to respond and only lifted a brow.

Thranduil began to pace in long measured steps. "My dislike of other races is well recorded, as you must know." He glanced at Sweeney with a faintly amused smile. "No, do not respond, I am well aware of my history, I assure you."

Sweeney shifted faintly, settling into a comfortable stance. He nodded faintly at Thranduil's snort, and waited. The elf turned, pacing in the opposite direction, his hair a gleam in the shadowed darkness, the torches lighting the platform wreathing the air above them in an almost gloomy cloud. No, Sweeney decided, he did not like the caverns at all.

Thranduil sent him a glance that glittered in the torchlight, blue eyes sharp and knowing, as if the elf could discern his thoughts and dislike easily. Sweeney had always felt he hid such things well, but in the presence of this elf, knew he was exposed far more than he liked.

"It is not your blood, however that concerns my people. It is simply that Tauriel chose another above me, something few thought would ever happen." The King sighed, stopping for a moment, hands clasped behind his back. "I never thought would happen, not after... well, it does not matter, does it? It is done, and I have you."

He smiled at Sweeney.

Sweeney touched his brow. "You have me, good or bad."

Thranduil laughed at that and shook his head. "Aye, good or bad, Sweeney. Will you prove my choice an error or shall I be pleased to have taken a half-elf into my employ?"

Sweeney stiffened, fingers tightening on his bow. "Have I need to prove my worth?"

Thranduil stopped in front of him, slightly shorter, enough he had to lift a chin to meet Sweeney's gaze. "No, you do not. I have seen what you can do. I simply offered a new path, as Tauriel chose a new path. Your journey is not yet finished, Sweeney."

"No, it is not, nor is yours, I think."

Thranduil blinked and then stepped back, the blue gaze suddenly shielded. "Perhaps not," he agreed softly. "Perhaps not, Sweeney. Legolas seems to think so as well." The elf sighed and turned to the open cavern. "We shall see, then, what lies ahead."

Sweeney smiled and relaxed. This was his place - for now.

Legolas settled comfortably into a low crouch, eyes searching the shadowed edge of the forest, it's draw a deep hum in the back of his mind, one he intentionally ignored, not yet ready to leave Mirkwood, not yet ready to leave behind a father who had come home different than when he'd left.

He smiled in amusement, an expression had he seen it, remarkably similar to his father's. A deer appeared at the edge of the forest, ears twitching. It waited a moment then bent to eat the long grass at its feet. What had happened on that long journey? Something had softened Thranduil, something had brought a faintly melancholy look to the once cool blue gaze, heat and something else Legolas had never seen in his father's expression. Something perhaps he had not felt in a very long while.

Legolas smoothed his fingers over his lips, contemplating what that might be. Had the call of the West finally claimed him? Had the journey ignited that longing to go home? Yet Thranduil had never known that place, and did not consider the elven homeland his home. He had been born in Arda and had said would die there.

So if not that, what else? Had the close companionship with Haldir, wanted or not, stirred some deeper need within his father, always so distant himself? A brow lifted as Legolas considered this with a faint sense of surprise and amusement. Did he find the duty of being King no longer what he wanted?

Or was it the darker shadowed confines of his caverns, did he long for the wind and sun of Lorien's vast forest? To live amid the great boughs of the mallryn... Legolas shook his head. No, that land was not what he remembered, no longer graced with the towering giants as it had. Yet being out in the open, with the wind and sun... He could well appreciate the longing for that.

But there was more. He knew it. Which led to what? Companionship? He tilted his head, tapping his temple as he considered. Love? Had Thranduil met someone?

A faint scatter of pebbles made Legolas blink, but not move, hand still to his temple, eyes downcast to note the shadow at his feet.

"Sweeney."

"Aye, tis me."

Legolas rose to his feet, turning to face the half-elf. He touched his brow with a smile. "Captain."

Sweeney frowned, bow tucked over his shoulder, dark hair ruffled by the breeze coming in off the river, cut short to his neck, long over one brow. Grey eyes met his, different that the sharp blue of Thranduil's or the sunnier blue of Legolas' own pair, grey tinted blue with a hint of green. A face with a narrow chin and sharp cheekbones of elvish blood stared back at him, winged brows and cheeks that held no hint of shadow.

A pretty face when placed among men, rugged when among the elves.

Aye, Legolas decided, Sweeney was definitely rugged.

Sweeney looked past Legolas to the deer still near the forest's edge. "So not hunting as you said, I see."

Legolas looked back, watched the deer flick its tail and turn back into the wood with a great leap. "Hmm, no so much."

"When are you leaving?"

Legolas turned back, studied Sweeney for a moment. "Glad to be rid of me or worried more that I am leaving?"

"Neither," Sweeney returned with a grin. "Simply following orders to find out when. Your father is the one who is curious, who seems a bit anxious to have you gone. Prying were you?"

Legolas laughed. "You are very intuitive, Sweeney. Tauriel would be proud. Yes, I was asking questions, none of which he answered very well."

Sweeney shrugged, eyes narrowed with amusement. "As if you thought he would?"

"No, and you will not tell me either?"

"Of course not, I am his captain. You'll have to find out on your own."

Legolas settled back into his crouch, elbows on his knees. "I guess I'll be here awhile longer then. You can tell my father I will see him at dinner."

He heard Sweeney snort faintly. Felt the bow he did not see. "As you will, my lord."

Legolas waited a moment, then called out, turning to see Sweeney halt at the edge of the cavern entrance behind him. "I am not your lord, Sweeney. Just a friend should you need one."

Sweeney did not move for a moment, head turned away. Then he sighed, his shoulders pushed back as he straightened. "I appreciate that, Legolas." Then he was gone, long stride blending him into the shadows in moments, his hair a faint gleam then lost in the darkness of Mirkwood's city.