An ancient prophecy told of an Elf-mage with magic so great, it could rival the gods. The Elf was said to be the smartest, the kindest, and the most beautiful Elf in all Middle-Earth. Only this Elf could right the wrong and reset the balance of nature. The prophecy also said the evil of the world would do their best to stop him at all costs
About 2000 years later, right before the Last Alliance
Crown Prince Thranduil, future ruler of the kingdom of Mirkwood, cradled the small baby he held in his hands against his chest. The baby laughed and gurgled as Thranduil gently tickled his tummy. The older Elf cooed at the babe, which was quite unbecoming of the heir, but all the same, very amusing.
"What are we going to name him?" Thranduil asked his beautiful wife, Eldàrwen, who was sitting across from him in the childbearing bed.
"I was thinking of Mablung," she said dreamily.
Thranduil wrinkled his nose in deep distaste. "Mablung? He will be the laughing stock of the kingdom!"
"All right," the princess said in mock annoyance. "Let's see you do better then!"
"How about Legolas?"
Eldàrwen smiled. "Legolas. It's perfect!"
And so the small babe that laughed at everything became known as Legolas. He was a very happy baby; he made everyone smile and chuckle at his antics. But then, all of them, were deceived. For in the house was a traitorous being who took the shape of King Orophin's most trusted adviser.
One morning, three months after Legolas had been born, this advisor, who went by the name of Mahton, hurried into the throne room, a frantic look adorning his face. "My Prince!" Mahton exclaimed. "Please forgive me of my bluntness, but there is an urgent matter I must speak with you about."
Thranduil furrowed his brow and looked at his father. Orophin nodded and Thranduil stepped from the dais. He beckoned for the advisor to follow him to a more private place. Once the two Elves were settled in the Prince's study, Mahton spoke out. "My Lord, Prince Legolas is the Elf the prophecy spoke about!"
"What prophecy?" the Crown Prince scoffed, trying not to show the fact that he was indeed scared.
"The ancient prophecy of the Elf who would restore the balance of nature by his magical powers!" Mahton cried. "I've been researching for weeks! Do you remember the small, leaf-shaped scar the Prince was born with on the nape of his neck? That is the sign that marks the Elf the prophecy spoke of!"
"Ai, Elbereth!" Thranduil breathed. "Are you certain?"
"I have never been more positive in my entire life, Your Majesty," Mahton said. "Prince Legolas is not safe here, or anywhere, for that matter."
Thranduil sunk into deep thought. Should he send the babe to Rivendell, or maybe Lorien? King Gil-Galad and Lady Galadrial had the Rings of Power to protect them. But if the prophecy spoke true, then Legolas had his own magic to protect him, didn't he? "He will remain here," Thranduil commanded in a firm voice.
Mahton opened his mouth to argue but decided against it. "Be iest lîn According to your wish," he said in a suspiciously close tone to disappointment and resentment. "Would you permit me to leave tonight to go to Gondor for further study?" Thranduil nodded absentmindedly. The advisor bowed and exited the office, giving the Crown Prince time to think.
.
An ear splitting, anguished scream rang through out the forest of Mirkwood as the sun rose. If one were to search for the source of the outburst, they would discover the princess sitting on the floor in Prince Legolas' room, sobbing. The room was demolished, to say the least, and the cradle had been broken into tiny pieces. There was no sign of the baby anywhere; Prince Legolas was missing.
.
Time passed without a notion of where Legolas might be. Men and Elves formed and allegiance with each other to defeat the Armies of Mordor. They succeeded and Sauron was forced to flee his body and become nothing more than a spirit that roamed the earth. The ruler of Rivendell, Gil-Galad, and the ruler of the Mirkwood, Orophin, both died in the war. In their stead, Lord Elrond took over Imladris, and Thranduil became King of the Woodland Realm.
The three Elven kingdoms shut themselves off from each other. Rivendell, because the others thought they let too many non-Elven folk reside there. Lorien, because they thought themselves superior to all the rest. And Mirkwood, because Thranduil and Eldàrwen were still feeling the hurt of the kidnap of Legolas, the would-have-been Crown Prince of Mirkwood.
.
"My Lord!" cried a squire in the Mirkwood Palace Guard uniform. "There are messengers, from Rivendell!"
Thranduil looked up, surprised, (there had not been an Elf from a different realm since the reign of Orophin) and slowly took his place at the throne his father sat at nearly 3000 years ago. The Elf took hold of his wife's delicate hand and waited for the messengers to be shown in.
When the door opened to reveal the persons, they proved to be none other than Lord Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir. They bowed a good distance away from the King and Queen before approaching further.
"Your Majesties," Elladan said with a commanding tone. "I bring tidings from my father, Lord Elrond. As you know, the One Ring has been found. Rivendell, Gondor, Lorien, and Rohan all call for aide from Mirkwood. We will be marching against the Black Gate of Mordor in two weeks. We hope to destroy it."
Elrohir cleared his throat and continued. "We heard of the kidnapping of the Prince. All of the nations wish to express their deepest sorrow. If you need anything, from any of the kingdoms, just ask, and you shall receive."
"Tell me, Elladan, Elrohir, are you skilled trackers?" Thranduil asked, his voice and face void of any emotion.
Elladan glanced at his brother before answering. "Aye, my Lord," the young Elf replied. "My mortal brother, Aragorn, is among the best of the best, and it was myself and Elrohir who trained him. I must consider my brother and myself fairly good."
"Could you track something or someone down even if they disappeared more than 2000 thousand years ago?" Thranduil leaned forward in his throne, intent on hearing the answer.
Elrohir raised his chin. "We would try our best to find Prince Legolas if you but ask it, your Majesty, but I cannot promise you anything until the Elfling is safe in your arms."
"Then I await that moment," the King said, sitting back. "Until then, Mirkwood would consider is a privilege to fight with you and your allies once more."
"Thank you, your Majesties," the twins said in unison and bowed.
"Would you have rest before departing?" Eldàrwen offered in her sweet, musical voice.
"We would be honored, my Lady," Elladan said. "Hannon le." Thank you
Thranduil raised a hand to summon a servant. The Elf-maid who answered the call escorted them to adjoining rooms. "Dinner is at seven, my Lords," she said before leaving to finish her other tasks at hand.
Elrohir stripped off his armor, cloak, and tunic. "I'm taking a bath," he announced.
Elladan chuckled. "You know what, 'Ro? I'd say you were a woman if not for the lack of breasts. You complain and bathe as one."
Elrohir glared and threw his shirt at his twin before hiding himself in the small bathing chamber between the two rooms. Elladan laughed again before falling into the soft bed, exhausted.
.
"Pippin? What are you doing?" Merry hissed.
"I just want to look at it. Just one more time," his cousin replied. Pippin glanced around and picked up a water jug to put in the palantìr stead. The Hobbit set it down on the ground and unwrapped it from the course gray cloth. He held it almost lovingly in his hands until a fiery eye appeared. Pippin screwed his eyes shut, trying to get away from the mental pain the hurtful voice was causing, but to no avail.
The young Hobbit fell to the floor, writhing and crying out in pain. Aragorn and the twins ran in from the surrounding deck upon hearing the noise. Aragorn rashly grabbed the glass ball and fainted from the sudden pain he felt. Gandalf threw a blanket over the rolling ball as Elrohir caught his brother and gently lowered him to the ground.
"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf explained, whirling around to meet a motionless Pippin. The Wizard hurried to his side and grabbed his hand, speaking a soft spell to wake him up. Pippin gasped and blinked hard.
"What did you see?" Gandalf asked urgently.
"There was an Elf, a tall, blonde Elf in black armor standing next to a tree. A white tree," Pippin said. He few tears escaped from his eyes. "It was dead and burning!"
"What else?" the Wizard asked when the Hobbit paused.
"I saw I saw him!" Pippin began sobbing. "He asked me my name; I didn't answer."
"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?"
.
"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," Gandalf said to the group in front of him. "A fool he is, but an honest fool."
Just then the hall doors creaked open. All heads turned to meet a proud, blonde Elf. He strode forward, his gait graceful and silent. The twins bowed deeply.
"I am King Thranduil of Mirkwood," the beautiful Elf said in a soft, commanding tone. Thèoden inclined his head in respect.
Pippin's mouth fell open. "Gandalf!" he whispered loudly. "It's him! It's the Elf I saw!"
The Elf-King turned his head. "Pardon?"
"Master Peregrine claims he saw a blonde Elf in the palantìr the evening before," Gandalf explained. Going out on a whim he asked, "Do you have black armor?"
"No," Thranduil replied. "I have silver. It's a tradition in Mirkwood: every other generation wears black or silver. My father wore black the day he was killed. And Legolas would have." He lowered his head, trying to choke back a sob. Even after so many years it hurt to even think of his missing son.
"Would have?" Aragorn asked before Elladan had the chance to elbow him into silence.
"He was kidnapped three months after his birth. We have not heard anything about him since," he answered quietly.
"Gandalf, I swear, that is the Elf! He was tall with blonde hair exactly like that and his blue eyes pierced me to my very soul."
"Blue eyes? Thranduil echoed. "I do not have blue eyes, Master Hobbit." The King narrowed his orbs. "But Legolas did."
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