Thranduil needs a vacation and Legolas knows just what to do. He persuades his reluctant father to accompany him to a secluded beach. But alas, an Elvenking is not a surfer boy and flip-flops are definitely not what Thranduil considers suitable footwear. And these are only minor obstacles on the way to relaxation in Valinor Beach.

Modern-ish AU setting, because I guess there are no flip-flops and margaritas in Middle-earth...

Disclaimer: I do not own Thranduil (unfortunately), nor any of the other characters from Tolkien's Middle-earth. I do not make any money with this, this is purely for entertainment.

"Ada, just do what normal people do: relax," Legolas said with a smirk upon seeing the lingering tension on his father's face.

"That is very easy for you to say son, but I think you forget that I do not normally relax." Thranduil dropped the last word with pure contempt as if it were something inherently indecent. He pulled his robe around his lean body as if he wished to protect it from the sun that was beating down on them as well as from curious onlookers that might be too eager to catch a glimpse of their king taking a royal vacation.

Of course there was no need to worry about his privacy, Legolas had made sure of that. After all they were the king and prince of Mirkwood, they would have an entire beach for themselves, the light summer breeze and the glittering surface that rippled softly beneath the azure sky all at their disposal.

Legolas cast his father a sideways look through his sunglasses, a lopsided grin on his face: "That's because you don't know how to relax. And that is also exactly why I brought you here today. It is impossible not to fall under the spell of this beautiful place." Seeing the doubtful frown on his father's face he added "You'll see, trust me."

Thranduil sighed, still not quite convinced of the necessity of this so called vacation, a trip he had sought to avoid for reasons he had been stubbornly keeping to himself. But Legolas had kept insisting, the words 'old' and 'recluse' still ringing poignantly in Thranduil's ear. The last thing he wanted to do was to spoil his son's enthusiasm, after all Legolas had looked so happy when he had finally agreed to come along.

"If you say so." His hand shot to the back of his head as a sudden gust threatened to undo the impeccable appearance of his platinum tresses.

Legolas rummaged in his beach bag and pulled out two hair ties, holding out one to his father and tying up his own hair with the other one. "You should do the same Ada, at least if you want to be able to enjoy the view without a curtain in front of your eyes."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows in indignation. "You know that I never tie my hair up. It goes against my style."

"Suit yourself." Legolas shrugged, stifling a chuckle at his father's stubbornness as he stowed away the hair tie.

"Come on then," Legolas beckoned his father to move on, a winding pathway leading up an impressive dune that seemed to be as wide as it was tall, scattered tussocks lining their narrow climb.

"We are almost there, this is the last dune."

The dawning look of annoyance on Thranduil's face prompted Legolas to add "I promise, we are very close." Legolas climbed swiftly ahead, his feet barely sinking into the sand and his ponytail swaying softly in the breeze.

"I shall hope so," Thranduil muttered under his breath, his insistent attempts to keep his hair from crawling all over his face continuously sabotaged by an equally insistent wind. And on top of everything else he was busy trying to avoid the brambles that poked with their devious spikes through the scarce tufts of ruffled grass and seemed to have only one thing on their evil mind, and that was torturing his ankles.

At long last they reached the top and Thranduil had finally caught up with his son. Legolas turned to his father and with a sweeping gesture he pointed at the sandy beach that stretched before their eyes. From their vantage point they were able to overlook a picturesque bay, a perfect composition of white and blue, sheltered from the harshness of the outer sea as well as the gusts of wind that would haunt the more open areas.

"Welcome to Valinor Beach, Ada! I know you will love it, I've been here with Tauriel and you know how she loves to swim, so this is her favourite spot. I thought it was about time that you get to know it too."

He looked at his father expectantly searching for an appreciative gleam in his eyes. But Thranduil was still reluctant, if he was honest he felt quite ridiculous in his attire, swimming trunks with coiling vines and scattered leaves being the only thing he was wearing beneath his flowing robe of grey silk that clung to his chiseled torso like a second skin and which he had insisted on bringing along despite his son telling him off for being too old fashioned. And those flip-flops Legolas had lent him were killing his toes, how on Arda could his son walk in those flimsy things? He was on the verge of casting them into the ocean if the sand beneath his feet had been but a little less hot.

"So, what do you think?" Legolas pressed on, trying to elicit some sort of exited response from his father. "You have to admit that this is beautiful."

He ostentatiously dropped his beach bag and popped the sun umbrella into the ground, casually holding on to it, his athletic and evenly tanned body a pleasant sight indeed, loose fitting bathing trunks with pink hibiscus flowers hiding only what needed to be hidden and a fashionable pair of flip-flops on his feet. He lowered his sunglasses and squinted at his father, who seemed to be suddenly lost in thoughts and looked as out of place on this sunny beach as would a mariner in the thickets of Mirkwood.

With a guilty smile on his face Thranduil turned to his son. "Yes, yes of course you are right. This is beautiful. It's just that -," he hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words, "I have not been to this place in a very long time."

Legolas' eyes widened in surprise. "So you know this beach? Why have you never told me? We could have come here much more often together."

He stood with his arms akimbo and threw his father a challenging look. Thranduil looked even paler beside his son and beneath the clear sky that spanned like a flawless blanket of blue above them. Wrapped in his grey robe and his silvery golden hair caught in the nascent gusts of wayward wind he seemed like an ancient sentinel, and suddenly it dawned on Legolas and the petulance vanished from his face.

"You were here with her, with mother?" he asked softly, careful not to unnecessarily agitate his father by saying something that he knew would tear open old wounds. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. He wanted this trip to precisely take his father's mind off all those things that he constantly worried about. And now all he did was remind him of the one person he still missed the most.

He might not usually say anything openly to Legolas, but he knew, he saw it in his face, the way it tensed suddenly, and he saw it in his eyes when their gazes met. And on his shoulders he saw the weight of thousands of years and the burden of ruling a kingdom and of not having a loved one by his side to share the responsibilities. But no, this was not quite true after all, he had his son, Legolas, he would always be by his father's side, if only he allowed it, if only he would open up his heart to his son.

All these thoughts flashed through Legolas' head as he stared at his father beside him, a shadow on the elder elf's face despite the blinding sunshine surrounding him. His gaze clung to the horizon where the water and the sky melted into one blurred canvas of blue.

Thranduil nodded slowly and pulled the robe tighter around his shoulders, a sudden chill creeping into his bones. "Yes, I have been here with your mother. But that was a long time ago and much has changed since then."

"I am sorry, I did not know," Legolas blurted out, fearing to have spoiled this day that he meant for his father to be simply an enjoyable distraction. Thranduil turned to look at his son and the onset of a smile that tugged at his lips was enough to melt away the tension on his son's face.

"It is not your fault Legolas, you could not have known this, because I have never told you." He brushed the windswept strands from his face, his hair gradually leaving behind its usual sleek perfection. "But I am telling you now and I also want you to know that one thing has not changed."

Legolas looked at his father with a gleam in his eyes that was as expectant as it was anxious. "And what is that?"

"I am here with someone I love."

A smile brighter than the sun dawned on his son's face, the sight so obviously contagious that even Thranduil managed a heartfelt smile in response.

"I am glad that you agreed to come along with me today." In a sudden impulse Legolas reached out for his father's hand, who to his surprise did not pull it away, but rather returned the gesture with a tender squeeze. Encouraged by this unforeseen development Legolas saw his chance to get his point across.

"You cannot hide yourself away for the rest of your life." He tilted his head and raised one eyebrow, a perfect mirror of his father, as he eased back into the light-hearted teasing he had down to a fine art. "I mean, you may be an old elf, but I expect you to still last for a good while, so that could be a really, really long time."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and assessed Legolas with a shrewd glance. Clearly he would not allow himself to be so easily out-sassed by his own son.

"So you will be the one to rescue me from my reclusion? With flip-flops and sunglasses? Is that your plan?" Thranduil countered, a look of perfectly rehearsed indignation on his face.

"Yes, exactly." Legolas beamed at his father and handed him a pair of sunglasses. "By the way, here are yours," he said as he slid his own back up his nose and reached for the parasol and the beach bag to keep on walking.

Thranduil reluctantly put them on with a wry smile on his face. "I must look ridiculous with these."

"No you don't. They fit you very well, really majestic and all." With a mischievous grin he added "But I am afraid no one besides me is going to be able to admire you, because we will be all alone."

And with those words he turned on his heels to make his way down to the beach, leaving his father behind on top of the dune, still trying to figure out if this was now a compliment or an insult.

"Wait up son," he called after Legolas who had simply slid down the sandy slope despite his double cargo and was now gesturing at his father from the bottom of the dune to follow his example.

"I surely hope Feren never hears of this, me the King of Mirkwood frolicking around like an elfling," he mumbled to himself as he took off his flip-flops and his robe, rolling it up into a bundle and sitting down with a sigh, his feet sinking into the smooth softness, the sand under the surface pleasantly cool against his sore ankles.

"Come on Ada, don't fall asleep up there or else I'll have to drink those margaritas on my own!"

"Yes, I'm coming, no need to be hasty," Thranduil called, the prospect of cocktails on the beach considerably lifting his spirits.

Enough with the insolence already he told himself, he would show his son that he wasn't that old and that he still knew how to have some fun!

And with one push he made his way down, stirring up dusty white clouds as he plowed through the sand, swirling winds seizing his hair, the last remnants of sleekness utterly gone. But he couldn't care less. He plunged straight into those happy times so long ago, the salty breeze on his face, the sudden rush of adrenalin coursing through his veins.

"Not bad Ada, I'm impressed!" Legolas received his father with an amused nod and proceeded to brush off the sand from his back. "Although you do look quite messy, you know your hair is all -," he gesticulated around his head in awkward circles.

"Ah well, I guess for today I will have to give up on regal perfection," Thranduil chuckled and shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I do hope that you did not forget the sunscreen. You know how sensitive my skin is."

Legolas interrupted his task to rifle obediently through his beach bag.

"No, I did not forget, you know that I am a diligent person." With a grimace he pulled out a small bottle and waved it under his father's nose.

Slight embarrassment dawned on Thranduil's face.

"Yes, I know iôn-nín, forgive your old father for being overly concerned. I promise that I will try to relax as you have advised me to."

"Good, very good indeed". Legolas nodded happily as he linked arms with his father. "Then I am sure today will be an excellent day!"

Together they ambled along the white shores of Valinor Beach, the summer sun spilling its dazzling light into the turquoise ocean and the seagulls soaring high above them, their cries singing of the lands beyond.

It would not be the last time that father and son would find refuge here together.

Sindarin:

Ada - father

iôn-nín - my son

Author's Notes:

This short summer fic was born from an idea I had based on the awesome piece of fanart by kinko-white, titled „Royal Vacation", which is the cover for this fic (permission to use was granted by the artist). You know, Thranduil and Legolas chilling on the beach, enjoying a lazy afternoon with margaritas in the sun.

This has been previously posted on AO3, tumblr and Wattpad.

If you like what you read then a nice review makes me really happy!