The History Of Legolas – Part II
The Last Green Leaf
By Vendie

Disclaimer:The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it.

This is the re-written sequel to The History of Legolas Part I. As I mentioned in the author's note on the first chapter of that story, there have been significant, substantive changes to the plot arcs of The Last Green Leaf and I Aear Can Ven Na Mar (the coming third installment). I hope you'll read on to see what's changed. For those who have read this part of the trilogy before, you'll start to see changes starting in about Chapter 5 of this installment.

Again, thank you for your support and interest in my stories. All of your feedback is extremely helpful and encouraging. I couldn't have asked for better readers. Please enjoy, and leave a review to let me know what you think!

Blessings,

Vendie

The Last Green Leaf
Chapter One – Coming of Age

"Legolas!"

The voice was sharp in the young elfling's ears. He knew he was in trouble. The blond-haired, blue-eyed elf sighed and put the silver leaf necklace that he had been looking at back under his tunic before giving away his position.

"I am here, Arthion," Legolas said, waving to his elder brother from the tree in which he sat. His brother looked up and rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I have been looking everywhere for you. Adais not pleased with you for running off without telling him where you were going," Arthion scolded as his little brother scurried down the tree.

"He was busy! And I did not really know where I wanted to go anyway," Legolas muttered. Arthion took his hand forcefully and led him back to the great doors of their father's halls.

"Legolas! If you did not know where you were going to go, how were we supposed to find you?" Arthion asked, annoyed.

"I hate being in the caves! I love the trees!" The young elfling protested. "Ada does not make you tell him where you're going! Why must I?"

Arthion sighed as the two stopped at the doors of the Halls. "It is different for me. I am older," he said.

"It's not just that! Hérion gets to go wherever he wants, too," Legolas pointed out.

"Do not question things that you could never understand," Arthion said as the doors opened. Legolas let out a frustrated sort of growl and glared angrily at his oldest brother as they walked into their father's halls.

Legolas did not like the darkness of their underground home, especially since he was made to spend so much time in it. His father was very strict with the things he could and could not do, and had ever rarely let him out on his own. The youngest of Thranduil's sons wanted nothing more than to explore the forest about him and listen to the trees. He loved the trees, and if he were allowed to, he'd spend all day outdoors listening to what they had to tell him.

As Arthion and Legolas passed an elleth who was pulling her elfling along to their home, the youngest son of the Elvenking dared to ask the question that he had been asking since he was old enough to realize that there was something missing in his family.

"Why do other elflings have a naneth and we do not?" He questioned timidly. Arthion immediately appeared uncomfortable. He averted his eyes from Legolas and loosened the grip on his hand.

"You will learn when you are older," he answered quietly.

"You said that when I asked you on my tenth begetting day! I'm now twenty!" Legolas complained. "When will I be old enough?"

"When Ada thinks you are, he will tell you," Arthion said. Legolas growled angrily and marched alongside his brother, too frustrated to talk anymore.

Arthion led his littlest brother to their father's study. Legolas, now faced with his father's imminent wrath, was suddenly frightened. Just as Arthion was going to knock on the wooden door, Legolas stopped him.

"Arthion, Adaisn't going to yell, is he?"

Legolas' older brother looked down at him and his gaze softened.

"I do not like it when he yells," Legolas admitted, sounding ashamed. Arthion chuckled patted his brother's head.

"I am sure of only one thing," the eldest replied, "you are in for a scolding."

Legolas made a whining noise, and he swallowed hard as Arthion knocked on their father's study's door.

"Enter," Thranduil's firm voice came from within.

Arthion pushed the door open and gave Legolas a gentle nudge inside. The elfling stumbled forward ahead of his brother. Thranduil, who was sitting at his desk, looked up and dropped the papers he had been reading, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Thank you for finding him, Arthion." Thranduil said, standing up. Arthion nodded, but said nothing. He did not fully approve of his father's obvious over-protection of Legolas, but he was always hesitant to discuss it. Arthion knew why his father sheltered his youngest, and he knew that if the subject were ever brought up, it would be painful for everyone involved.

"You may leave us now; I have some things to discuss with Legolas," their father said, looking intently at his youngest son. Arthion nodded again and patted his little brother on the shoulder before leaving.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind Arthion, Thranduil came out from behind his desk and stood in front of his son, his hands behind his back and his eyes fixed on the little blond head that was looking rather intently at his boots.

"Where did you go?" Thranduil asked.

"Outside," Legolas murmured, still staring down.

"Have I not told you that you are to ask for permission to go out of doors, and that you must be accompanied by an adult?"

"Yes."

"Why did you not obey me?"

"Because," Legolas paused, wondering if he should tell the truth or if he should make something up. He finally peered up at his father, who arched an eyebrow at him.

"I wanted to go outside," the little prince murmured again, guilt dripping from his words.

"Why could you have not waited for my permission, and for someone to take you outside?"

"Because I wanted to go alone!" Legolas said, suddenly raising his voice.

"Legolas, the outside is no place for an elfling - "

"All of the other elflings my age get to go outdoors by themselves!" Legolas interjected.

"The other elflings have the proper training with a bow," Thranduil replied.

"Because the other elfling's parents let them learn how to use one!" His son retorted.

"You are not 'other' elflings, Legolas," Thranduil said sternly. Legolas looked up at his father with an angry glare.

"It is not fair!" He protested.

Thranduil got down on his knees to meet his youngest son at eye level and put his hands on Legolas' shoulders. The elfling looked away, his brow furrowed.

"One day you will understand," Thranduil said.

Legolas, tired of this explanation, looked back at his father and cried: "When will I be old enough, Ada? I want to understand everything now!"

Thranduil laughed and patted his son's shoulder. "Not even the oldest and wisest elves understand everything, Legolas."

"Everything is hidden from me!" The elfling exclaimed in a moment of utter exasperation, "When will I be old enough to know why - " Legolas stopped mid-sentence and covered his mouth; suddenly remembering that the question he was about to ask was a dangerous one.

"Know what, little one?" Thranduil asked. Legolas shook his head, his hands still covering his mouth.

Just in the nick of time for Legolas, the door to his father's study opened and Nestadriel walked in. The healer, who had been Legolas' caretaker since he had been born, looked startled.

"I apologize, I shall return later," she said. Thranduil was about to nod, but his youngest son took this opportunity to duck out of the door and run away from the curiosity that almost got away with him. Thranduil sighed and shook his head as he watched his son flee, but did not call for him to return.

Legolas had run only partway down the hall when he stopped dead in his tracks and thought for a moment. Why was he running? His father had said that he wanted to know what his question was. And Legolas did have a right to know about his mother, did he not?

The little elfling, having made up his mind, turned back around and ran back to his father's study. He was about to burst through the door until he noticed it was just slightly ajar, and he could hear Nestadriel and his father speaking. Curious, Legolas stopped and eavesdropped on what his father and caretaker were discussing.

"I met Arthion in the hallway, my lord. He said that Legolas asked about his mother. Again," the healer said, sounding slightly annoyed. Thranduil looked at her pensively, not saying anything.

"Have you not told him?" she asked.

Thranduil sighed heavily before answering. "I have not," he said.

"The child deserves to know about his mother! He is twenty years old!" Nestadriel said, pointing to the door. Legolas, afraid that he would be spotted, moved to the side of the opening to conceal himself.

"He is not ready for that kind of information, Nestadriel. He is still too young to understand."

"Legolas is a bright young elf; he will figure it out soon enough if you do not tell him."

"He will not be able to figure it out if no one gives him clues," the king said sternly, giving a warning of his own. Legolas peeked into the door again. His father had a very angry look on his face and had his hands balled into fists.

"Even without clues from you or me or your sons, he is old enough to understand that those of the Eldar do not die unless mortally wounded, and he knows that Wood-Elves do not sail West. And he knows that he did not simply spring out of a hole! He will put two and two together before long, my lord."

"I will not have my son thinking it his responsibility for his mother's death!" Thranduil shouted angrily.

Legolas, in shock and despair, felt all of his breath leave him. The elfling faltered and he fell forward, pushing the door open all the way. He caught his balance as Nestadriel and Thranduil turned and saw him standing there. Thranduil's blood drained from his face and his heart sunk into his chest as he realized that Legolas had heard his words.

"Legolas," he said softly as he began to walk towards his son, his hand outstretched.

Legolas, stood there for a moment, paralyzed. As his father's words echoed in his mind, he wondered how his father could even stand to look upon him. He was ashamed and frightened, and so he turned, running away as fast as his legs would carry him.

Thranduil tried to follow after him, but Legolas was a fast runner and had already disappeared around a corner as the king stepped out of his study, calling out his son's name. The Elvenking sighed heavily as he watched Legolas disappear around the corner to hide somewhere in the network of caves.

Legolas ran as fast as he could, not paying particular attention to where he was going. He ran into a few elves along the way, but out of his desperation to flee did not stop to apologize. All the while he was running he could hear three words echoing in his mind:

"I killed her."

But he didn't even remember how! Or why! Certainly he had not meant to. Maybe he could not remember because the truth was too terrible, and he had blocked out all of the memories. But everything seemed to make sense to him; his father had never let him do anything was because Thranduil hated him for causing the death of his wife. And now he understood why Nestadriel and his brother's always seemed upset with Legolas mentioned his mother; because he had killed her. The tears that had been falling from his eyes began to fall with more frequency and it was hard for Legolas to continue running for despair he felt.

When Legolas stopped, he was in front of the doors of the Great Hall, where his father's throne was. There were two large statues built into niches in the wall on either side of the doors. One was an elleth, and one was an ellon. The ellon wore a crown of vines and looked very regal. The statue often reminded Legolas of his father, though he knew it was not Thranduil. The elleth was a very graceful character that had long and flowing hair and a beautiful face. The little elfling often thought that if he ever had a mother, she must have looked like that.

At that thought, Thranduil's words came back to him, and more tears gushed from Legolas' eyes. Feeling guilty and confused, the little elfling climbed behind the stone elleth and hid in the shadows, crying.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thranduil had searched high and low for his son. After a half hour had passed, he sent some of the guard into the forest to search, thinking that perhaps Legolas had fled to the shelter of the trees as his mother had often done. Almwen and their son had like minds – they loved the trees and felt safer in a grove of growing things than in a guarded fortress.

Alas, the guards had returned empty-handed and Thranduil then employed his elder sons to search the halls and any place in them where Legolas might be. Nestadriel, with a defiant "I told you so" was also searching. So far, they had not found the youngest of the Elvenking's children.

It had been nearly an three hours when Thranduil finally entered the foyer to the Great Hall. The king was on the verge of giving up when he heard what sounded like a child crying. Thranduil looked around, not seeing any other elves except for the stone statues that were created in the likeness of Oropher and Almwen. The king followed his ears until he came upon the space between the base of Almwen's statue and the wall. He looked into the shadows there and saw his son, curled up in a ball in the corner, crying softly. The king smiled, happy to have found his son, and finding it all too appropriate that he was hiding his mother's effigy.

"Legolas, here you are," Thranduil breathed in relief.

Legolas' head whipped up and his eyes stared straight into his father's. The elfling's little bottom lip quivered as he realized his hiding spot had been revealed and he began to wail loudly. Thranduil instinctively reached into the corner and pulled his son out into the light, then sat on the ground and cradled the elfling in his arms as Legolas cried into his shoulder.

"I am sorry, Ada!" He cried. "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry!"

"Legolas, my son, you have naught to be sorry for!" Thranduil said, putting his hand on the back of the elfling's head and stroking his blond hair.

"Yes I do! I killed Naneth!" Legolas sputtered, still crying into his father's shoulder.

"An Orc's arrow killed your mother, Legolas," Thranduil sighed. Confused, Legolas sniffled and looked up into his father's face.

"But you said - "

"I worried that if I told you all that had transpired; you would think it was your fault. I should have told you sooner – when you first asked. I could have saved you the heartache I caused you today. It is I who should apologize," Thranduil explained. His son's face was truly pathetic; his eyes were puffy and skin red from crying. Rubbing his eyes, he considered his father's words.

"It is not my fault?" Legolas asked. Thranduil smiled warmly and hugged his son close.

"No, my little green leaf, it is not," he said. Thranduil felt Legolas' tense muscles relax, though he only began to cry again. The king's brow furrowed and he looked down at his son.

"Legolas, what is wrong?" He asked.

"I do not know!" Legolas sobbed. Thranduil smiled and kissed his son's hair and hugged him. The king sighed as he stroked Legolas' back, comforting the little elfling as he cried. After a few moments, Legolas' sobs subsided into hiccups and he gradually pulled away from his father's chest and looked into Thranduil's eye with a sleepy gaze.

"My son, you look exhausted," Thranduil chuckled, patting the child's head. Legolas looked as if he were going to say something, but a great yawn stifled what words he was going to say, making his father laugh more.

"Shall we put you to bed for a small nap before dinner?" Thranduil asked.

"I want to know about Naneth," Legolas said simply. Knowing he could put it off no longer, the king sighed.

"Do you remember me telling you that we used to live in the southern mountains before you were born?" Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded. "Well, just before you were born, evil things started to come to where we lived. It wasn't safe for us anymore. So we decided to leave. Your mother was still carrying you in her when we departed. We were nearing the Forest Road when we were attacked by a band of Orcs."

Thranduil stopped and swallowed as the memories he had repressed for so long came flashing back to him. He could hear the shouts loudly ringing in his ears, and an arrow flying at full speed into flesh. He shuddered.

"Ada?" Legolas asked. His father shook his head and breathed deeply before continued.

"Your mother was hit by an Orc's arrow in the shoulder. The wound probably would not have been fatal, if it were not for the poison on the tip of the arrow. She was very concerned for your well-being, for she knew the poison would soon mingle with your blood. She gathered all her strength and willed you to be born. And you were."

Legolas listened intently. Though he could not explain it, as his father recalled the story to him, the young prince seemed to think it sounded familiar.

"She saved you, Legolas. And she gave you something to remember her by. Do you wear the silver leaf necklace I gave you for your fifteenth begetting day?" Thranduil asked. Legolas nodded and took the chain that was around his neck out from under his collar and let it rest outside his clothing. Thranduil touched the leaf charm that hung on it.

"This was your mother's. She gave it to you just before…" Thranduil's voice trailed off, losing his voice in his memories. A short silence followed as Legolas considered what he had heard.

Legolas suddenly looked up and met his father's eyes. "Ada, if I had not been born, would Naneth still be alive?" He asked.

If he was wholly honest with himself, Thranduil knew he would never know what would have become of his wife if she had not willed herself into labor. But he did have strong suspicions, which at length he shared with his son.

"No." Thranduil finally said. "I believe that I would have lost both of you that night, if it were not for your mother."

A heavy curtain of loss seemed to fall over Legolas. He snuggled close to his father's chest for comfort. A few tears trickled down his already tear-stained face as he looked up at his father.

"I wish I could have known her," Legolas said quietly. Thranduil smiled.

"You know her very well, Legolas," he said. The little prince looked at his father with confusion reflecting in his bright blue eyes. "Much of her lives in you."

"What does that mean?" Legolas asked, wrinkling his nose.

"That means that you can find her when you look inside yourself," Thranduil said, poking his son's nose with his index finger. Legolas giggled and swatted his father's hand, which resulted in a tickling attack on the little prince.

"Ada!" Legolas laughed, trying to wriggle away from his father. "No tickling!"

"What is that you say? More tickling?" Thranduil laughed.

"No! No more!" Legolas sputtered between giggles.

The laughter of father and son echoed off of the foyer walls, creating a light-hearted, melodious mood in the room as the stone carving of Almwen maintained her watchful silence.