Blind to the Truth
The first day of spring had just dawned, calm and bright in the region of Mirkwood. Everyone who saw this change from the cold, suffocating winter was glad for the sun and the warmth. Even those who could not see it felt the change and rejoiced in it. It was the first spring since the destruction of the one ring, which made it all the more special. And any day now, Prince Legolas was due home to find his father and greet his people, who regarded him as a hero. Legolas deserved their praise; he had fought bravely and done his kindred, the elves, a great honour.
Even at this early hour the main town of Mirkwood was busy, with many men, elves and even the odd dwarf. They were getting the last minute preparations for the homecoming of the Prince ready. No expense was spared, as was the order of King Thranduil. The celebrations had been scheduled to last for at least a week. Banners and flowers were strewn everywhere, as well as quite a number of people milling about, who wanted to see the prince as soon as he arrived.
And arrive he did. Before even the keen eyes of the elves in the 30,000 strong crowd could see him, a loud trumpet call announced his presence. Soon, even the humans could here the swift sound of a horse cantering down the rough wooded path. And then they saw him. Riding smoothly over the bumpy terrain, dressed in simple hunting raiment with a bow and quiver slung over his back. Two long knives hung down either side of him, in scripted with various elven runes. His long, silky hair hung about his shoulders like a waterfall, gently billowing out behind him in the slip- stream created by the speed he was travelling at. The people of Mirkwood may have been eager to see the heir to the throne return, but Legolas himself was more excited – and relieved to return home than anyone in the crowd. The long years he had spent with the fellowship did not show on his face, but they weighed heavily on his heart. He longed to come and go as he pleased, see the familiar woods that he knew as his home. But the most important thing for him was to find his father, with the intent of catching upon all the years they had missed together. If it was one thing that Legolas really yearned for, that was family and security. He had had little of both in his life.
The clamour of the crowd brought him out of his reverie very quickly. He had not been one to accept praise easily, yet the sound of all these people cheering for him and him alone managed to bring an irrepressible smile to his face. Coming home was one of the best decisions he had made in his life.
Happiness soon turned to ecstasy when he saw his father, standing tall and proud on a raised platform. Legolas urged his horse into a gallop, making the crowd step away.
Legolas dismounted quickly. 'My father.' He said, on bended knee, offering one of his white knives to his father.
'Rise, son, for the whole of Mirkwood rejoices on your arrival.'
Legolas turned to face the now almost hysterical gathering to give a small wave, and entered the towering palace of Thranduil. He was home!
A/N: Well, there is the introduction! Not much cause for excitement, but I have to set the scene sooner or later! This story already has a plot (for the first time ever I actually planned ahead) So I promise it will become a LOT more interesting.
Please leave a review on your way out!
The first day of spring had just dawned, calm and bright in the region of Mirkwood. Everyone who saw this change from the cold, suffocating winter was glad for the sun and the warmth. Even those who could not see it felt the change and rejoiced in it. It was the first spring since the destruction of the one ring, which made it all the more special. And any day now, Prince Legolas was due home to find his father and greet his people, who regarded him as a hero. Legolas deserved their praise; he had fought bravely and done his kindred, the elves, a great honour.
Even at this early hour the main town of Mirkwood was busy, with many men, elves and even the odd dwarf. They were getting the last minute preparations for the homecoming of the Prince ready. No expense was spared, as was the order of King Thranduil. The celebrations had been scheduled to last for at least a week. Banners and flowers were strewn everywhere, as well as quite a number of people milling about, who wanted to see the prince as soon as he arrived.
And arrive he did. Before even the keen eyes of the elves in the 30,000 strong crowd could see him, a loud trumpet call announced his presence. Soon, even the humans could here the swift sound of a horse cantering down the rough wooded path. And then they saw him. Riding smoothly over the bumpy terrain, dressed in simple hunting raiment with a bow and quiver slung over his back. Two long knives hung down either side of him, in scripted with various elven runes. His long, silky hair hung about his shoulders like a waterfall, gently billowing out behind him in the slip- stream created by the speed he was travelling at. The people of Mirkwood may have been eager to see the heir to the throne return, but Legolas himself was more excited – and relieved to return home than anyone in the crowd. The long years he had spent with the fellowship did not show on his face, but they weighed heavily on his heart. He longed to come and go as he pleased, see the familiar woods that he knew as his home. But the most important thing for him was to find his father, with the intent of catching upon all the years they had missed together. If it was one thing that Legolas really yearned for, that was family and security. He had had little of both in his life.
The clamour of the crowd brought him out of his reverie very quickly. He had not been one to accept praise easily, yet the sound of all these people cheering for him and him alone managed to bring an irrepressible smile to his face. Coming home was one of the best decisions he had made in his life.
Happiness soon turned to ecstasy when he saw his father, standing tall and proud on a raised platform. Legolas urged his horse into a gallop, making the crowd step away.
Legolas dismounted quickly. 'My father.' He said, on bended knee, offering one of his white knives to his father.
'Rise, son, for the whole of Mirkwood rejoices on your arrival.'
Legolas turned to face the now almost hysterical gathering to give a small wave, and entered the towering palace of Thranduil. He was home!
A/N: Well, there is the introduction! Not much cause for excitement, but I have to set the scene sooner or later! This story already has a plot (for the first time ever I actually planned ahead) So I promise it will become a LOT more interesting.
Please leave a review on your way out!