Disclaimer: Obviously i dont own anything Lord of the Rings and i'd never lay claim to anything of Tolkien's!
Beta: Emily Yeoh (Thank youu :)
My first song-fic, i've written before but its been a while! Let me know what you think, all concrit is appreciated :) No flame thank you.
Readers who may be offended by a depressive undertone may not want to read!
Enjoy guys!
xx
Paint your Target - Fightstar
You hide it every time you miss,
Impatience waits around for me,
you dance under the question mark,
without even trying."
Every time you put a foot wrong, I get the blame! You're not only making yourself look bad, but what's more, the rest of the palace! And what did you expect to achieve by trying to keep it from me? Again!" Thranduil barked down at his son, the minute he'd stepped out the door his elegant and composed veneer had vanished and was replaced with the painted face of a scornful father. "Now there is a roomful of head guards and counsellors, waiting for you to explain yourself and then try to clean up the mess you made!
"Father I jus-" Legolas began, half heartedly.
"You just what Legolas? The spiders are in our territory because you were too careless to stop them. And even then, I hear it from my cook, as opposed to my own son."
Legolas refused to meet his father's eyes, how many times had he heard all this? How many times had he disappointed, angered, and 'ruined' his Father? He ground his teeth impatiently, sick of the lecture. As the months had passed Legolas had began doubting that his father even tried to love him.
The failed raid had lead to a minor infestation and trouble for the Prince.
Especially since he hadn't dared to tell Thranduil.
I'm just not sure it's gonna' work,
I'm just not sure it's gonna' work.
"So now walk into that room and try not to do anything else wrong." Thranduil followed him into the counsel room, securing the heavy oak doors.
Would he have even cared if Legolas had been hurt after his encounter?
You can burn it all,
Rally around the table if you want to,
just to argue out the last scenes of us.
"Firstly I apologise for my son's impotence and dishonesty…"
Thranduil's voice trailed off as Legolas refused to listen. A few eyes turned towards him, wondering how he was going to react to the harsh insult. The inferno blazed inside him, which had calmed to a small flicker from the previous argument, and his walls were wearing seriously thin. He'd learnt to hide his emotions, and hold his temper, but this fire had been burning away for too long.
What really bothered him was the fact his father felt it acceptable to slight his son in front of twenty other high elves.
You can end it all,
I'm sorry enough to tell you that I'm okay and I'm never gonna' see you again.
So alike in appearance.
But they couldn't be more different inside.
'Hold it in. Just push it back, don't show the emotion, don't let him win.'
The killers walking amongst us,
look around they'll find your ashes;
you tread all over your mistakes,
and every heart you'll ever break.
It pained the young elf to think of it, but his mind always strayed back to his mother when times got challenging.
And the more he thought the more it seemed evident; she'd taken Thranduil's emotions and love with him. He had given her everything. Leaving nothing for their son but a bitter shell.
The nights when the arguments had first begun to get worse Legolas had lay in his chamber and sobbed through the entire night. He'd become sensitive, vulnerable and depressed. If his father said it was his fault, then it must be his fault. He'd trudged through the self-doubt and self-hatred, locked it up and pushed it aside, but now it seemed increasingly often that it escaped; gnawing at his mind and wearing down his heart.Had he continued like that he'd have withered by now, instead he closed himself and hardened his mind. His Father was never going to change, so Legolas had to."Legolas Thranduilion!" the King's voice shocked Legolas out of his daze and he snapped his head up, the entire table was looking at him. "Not only are you foolish enough to put your future kingdom in danger but you are rude and careless enough to daydream during our meeting".
Immediately the barriers went up.
As always, just block it out.
"I've taught you better, why can you not grow up Legolas? You just don't learn, if it weren't for you maybe your mother would still be here and you wouldn't be alive. I'm sick Legolas. SICK. You either start to behave like my son or you can find somewhere else to ruin."The words washed over his brain like a rush of ice-cold water.
He felt his eyes burn and head pound. That was it.
"You were NEVER good enough for Naneth! You know you weren't, so now you take it out on me, and I think its time you realised that I WAS good enough. Since YOU started with the abuse and arguments YOU ruined me!" Thranduil opened his mouth, his face painted with rage at his son's outburst. "No Ada, its MY turn now, BE SILENT!" Legolas' voice ricocheted off the walls and he kicked his chair over while leaping to his feet. His jaw squared and shoulders set, a fire burning in his eyes."I'm so sorry, my king" Legolas spat, at this Thranduil rose to his feet also, his body shaking with pent up anger; he slapped both palms on the table. "But you can't hurt me, you never will. I'm stronger, wiser and harder than you think. You can rally all your counsellors round this table to watch while you slight me, but I DON'T CARE AND NEVER WILL."
Seemingly unable to manage any words Thranduil hissed "Counsel dismissed."
So elegant you stumble around
with beautiful falls.
After storming out of the hall and packing the necessities, Legolas was walking to the weapon's shed.
Tears streamed down his face, the soft evening air warming them against his pale cheeks.
Anger now put aside Legolas was broken. There was simply no other way to describe it.
He'd never felt pain like this before, not just the mental pain, but the awful dull ache in his heart had risen to a stabbing agony. Guilty, lonely, angry, hurt, unwanted…unneeded.
He was alone.
He always had been since his mother passed on.
He needed someone, anyone to embrace him, feel caring arms round his shoulders, and smell the soft scent of pine that only belonged to his mother.
I'm just not sure it's gonna' work,
I'm just not sure it's gonna' work.
You can burn it all,
Rally around the table if you want to,
Just to argue out the last scenes of us,
You can end it all,
I'm sorry enough to tell you that I'm okay and I'm never gonna' see you again, AGAIN!!
You stumble through questions that you could never answer,
the barrel is loaded so go and paint your target.
You can burn it all,
Rally around the table if you want to,
Just to argue out the last scenes of us,
You can end it all,
I'm sorry enough to tell you that I'm okay and I'm never gonna' see you again.
So elegant you stumble around
with beautiful falls.
He mechanically claimed his quiver and bow, then his twin knives and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.
Shutting the door on his spirit and walking away.
His feet took him to his mother's grave: her beautiful marble face, smiling down at him, making the cold stone emanate a warm light.
He collapsed to his knees, tears now frozen, his face blank.
Taking an arrow out of his quiver he tucked his knees up to his chest and ran his finger along the perfect icy tip, the sharp edge pierced his skin and metallic red ribbons laced themselves round his finger.
No, Thranduil was right.
He wasn't good enough.
"I love you Naneth."
