Title: Hearts Of The Green (working title)
Fandom: LotR
Pairing: possible Thranduil/Haldir, maybe Elrond/Legolas
Rating: PG
Summary: After the war, with the Alliance scattered a new king of the sylvan elves received a ray of hope in his son. Not everybody is as happy as he is about it though. And the young prince may just change the destiny of many around him.
Author's Notes: that's a story i started a while ago, during a lecture on International Safety. I think. Not very interesting, as you can see. That's just the beginning. I have more handwritten, but I'm too lazy (and right now also busy) to type it down. Hope I will do it soon. Not edited or beta-read, so there are probably a lot of mistakes in there.
"You should allow us to take care of your son. At least for a while. He will be in constant danger during your journey north and later, when you will be strengthening your hold on Eryn Lasgalen…"
"No! I will not give him to you! You talk so easily about safety! When Lothlorien, Imladris and Grey Havens are all protected by three rings! You know nothing of safety, when their power is not there to back you up!"
Two elven lords and one lady exchanged surprised glances. Amroth said nothing, knowing his distant cousin too well, to even try to argue with him.
"Who told you we command the rings, Thranduil?" Galadriel finally asked.
They all wondered how he knew. Somehow, Galadriel could not read his mind, not now, while she was able to do so before. She wondered what was the cause of that. And how did Thranduil know. It was, after all, one of the best kept secrets. Only five elves knew, who commanded the rings. The present four and Gil-galad, the dead Noldor king.
There was a flicker of triumph in the king's eyes.
"It is true, is it not? The rumors of your commanding of Vilya were wide spread for years, lady Galadriel." He challenged. Thranduil almost wished they would deny it.
Elrond looked carefully at the young king. Although Thranduil was not that much younger than himself, he was raised differently, always in the shadow of his father and older brother. And now that elf was king to Eryn Lasgalen, where Sauron found refuge for his minions. The elven lord wondered how the Silvan kind would fare under their new king. If they will ever regain their splendor from before the Alliance and war.
The half-elf also saw something…different about Thranduil, something that was not there before, a certain glow to his person. He wondered about the cause.
"Very well, Thranduil." Cirdan finally spoke up, with one glance at the lord of the Golden Woods, who shrugged. He had always been the only one able to talk any sense into that particular family. Some said that they inherited the stubbornness Thingol, one of whom they call kin, had. "We will not insist anymore, seeing it futile. But do take into consideration that we all care for the mighty House of Oropher and your firstborn that it a first flicker of hope not only for your people in those sad times that have come."
Elrond nodded his agreement. Thranduil was much too protective of his son to let him go. Especially, since, if as the rumors said, the mother died giving birth to him.
"Imladris will always gladly help the House of Oropher." He offered. Yet, instead of thanks, he received a cold glare from the king.
"You were not so keen on it during the battle of Dagorland, lord Elrond." Thranduil spoke quietly, icily.
"I would speak with you alone, Thranduil, if that is all we have left to discuss." Galadriel interrupted swiftly.
Her position was a strong one, since she helped defend Lothlorien and Amroth liked her council, so he nodded his asset to prevent Thranduil from refusing.
"As you wish my lady." The king bowed slightly, yet one could see he was not glad neither for her interference nor for the position his cousin placed him in. He wanted confrontation with the Herald, that was much overdue in his eyes.
Three elven lords rose from their seats and, after bowing slightly to the lady and the young king, left the talan.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about, my lady?"
"I know whose child you borne, Thranduil Oropherion."
"I borne?"
"Yes. You still shine with the radiance of a mother, something only a different mother can see."
Thranduil fell silent. There was little use at lying to Galadriel. She would not harm his child, after all. He wondered if she knew the rest of the story.
"What do you want of me, then?" he was not polite at the moment, but he had long since discovered that cold aloofness was one of the few ways to stand up to the Noldor. His father had showed this to him. And his first objections at the war council led them all to where they were now. At least in a way.
Galadriel looked at him seriously.
"Your child does not belong only to you."
Thrandul raised his head, from disrespectfully inspecting his hands in the presence of the lady and stared at her with ice in blue eyes.
"Yes, he does." The young king stressed. "He belongs to me and no-one else, since his other father is not here to make the claim. You cannot tell me otherwise."
"His people will need him."
"Yes, I agree. His people wait for him beyond the borders of your Golden Wood. They wait for me and their prince. They need him more than your kind ever will."
The young king raised from his chair and made to the stairs.
"He told you, about the rings, didn't he?" Galadriel asked as he was about to descend.
"Namarie, Galadriel."
Thranduil did not even bother to turn, when he bid her farewell.
Thrandiul left Lothlorien as soon as he could. He was accompanied by a small group of his soldiers, since there were few they could spare, but they also had to ensure their king's safe return, and a contingent Galadriel send with him.
She said that it was a gift from herself to the newborn prince and that when the time will be deemed appropriate he would receive a gift more useful for himself.
The Lorien elves were led by Haldir, a Marchwarden, also a well known and acompished warrior, with whom, surprisingly, Thranduil communicated easily. They talked little, but grew quite fond of each other over the journey. Though Thranduil would not admit it to anyone.
They rode hard, in dire need to reach the sylvan folk. Because of this their travel flew by fast. Back in Greenwood, Thranduil immediately took charge of every thing, before even he got out of the saddle.
The camp was huge, elves traveling with all their belongings, trusting in their young king to lead them to safety. They were to set out in two days time, at dawn, and head north, possibly to the montains. But they all hoped it would not come to that.
Having arranged things to his liking, and Haldir was truly amazed that the young king, who was never supposed to become one, was so efficient in governing, Thranduil asked Haldir to accompany him.
They entered a tent, this one guarded well, warm and better kept than others.
'You will see Greenwood's greatest treasure now, Haldir of Lorien." The king said.
Inside there was an elf maiden, fair, but not overly so. Yet she had a radiance, that of an elf of a pure and good heart. She smiled at Thranduil and nodded to Haldir.
"Mae Govennen, Haldir of Lorien." She spoke softly. "Welcome home, brother."
"Araviel of Greenwood the Great." The king introduced the maiden and looked at her with a question in his eyes.
"He knew you would come today. He would not go to sleep." She looked to the far end of the tent, where, shadowed, stood a chest, an opened one. But when Thranduil walked to it, Haldir realized that it was a crib, not a chest.
The king came back with a small bundle in his arms.
"Haldir o'Lorien, I present you Legolas, Crown Prince of Greenwood the Great."
The Lorien elf looked at the small child on Thranduil's arms. The small boy had delicate features and huge blue-green eyes, that looked at Haldir with unmasked curiosity, even if he was half hiding behind his father's golden hair.
"Greetings, Legolas Thranduilion." He said with a soft smile. There was something special about the child.
The prince smiled back at him and reached with his hands to touch the silvery blond hair. He looked awed by the color.
"He likes you, Haldir of Lorien." Thranduil looked at him, smiling a little. As if it was the a very important thing, whenever the child would smile at him or not.
Looking at the young king and his heir, Haldir thought that it was, perhaps, the most important thing.