~ Stolen eternity ~
"Father?" Legolas asked carefully, approaching the figure in front of him. "All of the men you sent have returned."
Thranduil was standing in complete stillness, close to the floral wooden railing, facing the forest. Legolas knew that he'd find him on that place, reminiscent of a window garden. It wasn't quite spectacular now, because there were no blossoms in the autumn. The only decorations were the figural details on the floor and the low railing. Thranduil used to stay there with his wife, both gazing upon the stars – small peaces of light that have caught Valinor's divinity. The open space had strange beauty now, when the morning light was penetrating through the dense forest. It cast a gloom on it with some kind of elusive sadness. Maybe it was the slight chilly wind or the scattered red leaves on the floor. Maybe it was the unusual silence embracing the castle as never before.
In the middle of the delusive peace of this view was standing The King of Mirkwood, contemplating the living wood - its dark beauty becoming apparent from first sight in the early hour of another bright morning in the castle of the wooden elves. The King carried the paleness and the sharp beauty of a Sindarin. There was something magnificent in him, something that was impelling veneration in the others. His loftiness was unique in a way that no one could interpret. Judging by the way he had gripped his red mantle and the slight dark circles around his weary eyes, Legolas could tell that his father hadn't been at peace for the last couple of days. And that devastated him, knowing the news he was bringing.
Legolas gathered the strength he had left to tell him and just when he was going to, his father turned to him and the look in his eyes silenced him. They were blurred, quite a rare sight. In fact Legolas had seen him like that only one time. One night very long ago, when Legolas was young and still a child, they were sitting around a fire in a glade deep into Mirkwood. Just the two of them. Legolas had asked about his grandfather. Thranduil told him about the countless brave and wise deeds of Oropher and how great he'd lived and died. It was then, the first time Legolas saw this look in his father's eyes and never forgot it. That fathomless sorrow gushing from his ancient, blue eyes was like a brand in his mind, because he had never seen a Child of Iluvatar in sadness. Sadness was new to him and he remembered that he didn't like it back then.
Legolas saw that sadness for a second time and that scared him. He knew that sadness was dangerous and he had run from it all his life. Everyone, including his father, had warned him about death. Although rarely happening to their kind, death was something that was getting even to the Children of Iluvatar sometimes. And now… he felt like something was suffocating him, but he had to say it.
"Iluvatar has no mercy upon us, father. " Legolas' voice could be barely heard. "They haven't found her."
Thranduil turned his head aside.
"I'm sorry, dad." Legolas whispered, his eyes lowered to the ground. "We did every-"
"I understand." Legolas raised his head to his father's slightly trembling, but still firm voice. Thranduil's even intonation provoked anger in him. Legolas didn't believe his mother was gone.
„It just …can't be. I am sure she's alive. She's still-„
„Don't." Thranduil cut him off, his voice cracking with the weight of his sorrow. He continued toneless:" Please don't."
They weren't sure if they wanted to face each other. The moments of silence were the most painful in Legolas' life. He realized that he was looking for hope when there wasn't one His mind couldn't bare the fact that his mother was no longer amongst them. He refused to accept it. He was so angry to his father. It was always Thranduil that never gave up on fighting. It was Thranduil, his father and king that had always taught him to never lose faith.
Legolas couldn't stand the silence and turned furiously in order to leave the room. He planned to leave the castle just to stay away from this cursed, timeless place. He turned back and made a few steps, but his heart stopped him.
In a split second he placed himself on his father's place. Thranduil had seen too much and had lost too much for an elf. It was true that his lifetime was very long. But many had lived much more than him without having to suffer a loss.
"What did I do, Legolas? " Thranduil asked hollow. "What did I do to earn such punishment?"
Legolas knew that Thranduil could be rigorous sometimes, but his love was everlasting. He knew what his mother meant to him. And he feared that in the moment he leaves the room, his father was going to crush down. Legolas could clearly see how the loss of his mother was capable of stealing away Thranduil's sanity, driving him mad with anger and guilt; making him rove through Mirkwood until the day he tries to escape the grief. It was that why Legolas feared to leave him alone. For grief can kill elves and it would kill Thranduil, knowing that the Queen of Mirkwood was his purest joy, his heart and soul. She was his eternity.
Legolas turned around and went slowly to his father, offering him the only thing he had – himself. He hugged him.
"I am still here, father. You are not alone."