Hello!

I hope everybody is doing good, and for those who aren't, I hope things get better.

This fanfic is AU, so you may find some inconsistencies. Also, I'm not a native English speaker, and this version hasn't been reviewed by a beta (sorry :3).

I really hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think about it.

Summary:

Ion-nîn = My son

Ada = Dad

Nana = Mom

Quel amrun = Good morning

Cormamin lindua ele lle = My heart sings because of your presence.

"Had you already known, nana?". The prince inquired angrily, stopping in front of his mother slim frame. The elleth turned and looked at her son- anger coloring checks, lips closed in a tight line, a slightly raised chin, only one fist closed – he was his father's image, she thought with a smile before sitting on the near wood seat.

"Quel amrun, ion-nîn. Cormamin lindua ele lle."

Legolas' face softened, while letting out a defeated sigh. "Nana..." He tried to find the words he needed. There were many bitter things to be said, but his mother's sweet and fearless expression disarmed him as always did.

The elleth patted lightly the seat beside her, an invitation that the prince accept slowly and low-spirited like a small child who's already expecting a reprimand. That reaction waked a gentle and relived smile in the queen, it was clear that neither the time nor the distance had been able to wash away her Legolas' singularity, and she thanked the Valar for this.

Caladiel seemed to exhale a serenity that brought a strange feeling of invincibility to the golden ellon, it seemed that the problems hid themselves in the dark corners of his mind, threatened by the light of that elleth. Maybe he could forget the new trials the fate was putting on his way, even if only for a little while, because, in that moment, everything looked smaller and less urgent.

Choosing to let himself be affected by this inexplicable peace, Lagolas start to observe the surroundings. He was in the royal garden where he had spent most of his childhood. There were creepers, small bushes, red carnations – the queen's favorites -, and a single tree, an old Willow. Many seasons had passed since the last time he'd been there, too much time to be far from home, and even so, nothing had changed. And why would it had changed?! That garden survived the darkest of all times, in the deepest cave. It was, for this reason, a prove that light could reach everyone. But, most of all, it was, for the blond prince, a living memory of his father's shinning green eyes and his mother's delicate scent, kept safe in every single leaf.

"Was the trip pleasant, ion-nîn?"

Ironically, it was Caladiel's voice that brought Legolas back to reality and the insecurity that laid ahead. The cloud of peace that involved him had been dissipated, he felt restless again. The prince took a deep breath and let it out slowly trying to find the needed patience to continue that dialog.

"Yes, nana"

"Have you been in Lothlórien?"

"Nana, please, this is not what I want to talk about now... Ada said... I can't comprehend..."

"Have you, at least, given him a chance to explain, Las?"

Legolas lowered his eyes, a blush spreading though his cheeks and ears.

"I.."

"You should know by now that challenging your father will get you nowhere."

The prince let out an exasperate sigh, leading Caladiel to give him an understanding look. She knew her elfing's bad attitude was strongly justified. He looked after her for a kind of guidance that she was not sure she could provide.

"Ion-nîn, our king has reached a decision, there's nothing more you can do."

"He's not a king anymore, nana. There's no one here to be ruled." The words came out as a whisper so full of bitterness that the elleth instinctively came closer and took his hands between her slim ones.

"You know it's not the love for power that keeps him here."

"Than what's the sense of it?" Legolas had let the guard down again. Anger overtaking his senses, it felt like his heart was sailing in a ranged sea.

The queen looked away and let the air out of her lungs slowly while caressing the petals of the carnations that grew close to the seat. "What do you know about the Mulungu, ion-nîn?"

The golden prince raised an eyebrow at this question. If there was something in common between his parents it was their dislike to metaphors, characteristic that he had inherited. He chose to answer it even though.

"It's a small tree, with beautiful red or white flower that bloom during the spring. Dwarves consider it the tree of strength because it grows even in the borders of Mordor."

"And what happens with the Mulungu if we try to plant it in rich earth?" Caladiel asked, still looking away from her son.

"It dies. She need the poison that flows through that sick land where it usually grows... In some rare occasions the tree survives, but it needs time to adapt and blossom again."

Prince and queen stared each other finally, her serenity against his anguish.

"Thranduil is a warrior, just like our friend Mulungu, even when father or king, he thinks like a warrior... There still will be some wars this side of the ocean... It's here he needs to be, he's not ready to leave the battlefield yet. This is what has been left from the reality he has always known. Las, your father will need time to learn how to deal with this happiness without "buts", with this rich earth. Before that, the peace Valinor offers will only be torment for him."

Legolas lowered his eyes then, wishing he didn't understand his father's feelings so well. Suddenly, feeling rancor seemed the easiest option.

"Nana, he can't stay here alone..."

"He'll never be alone. My place is beside my husband, there must not be distance between us. The sea won't call me."

The blond ellon paled visibly, turning his terrified orbits to his mother while closing tightly his fists, it was not a sign of ire, only a desperate attempt to hold on to the small certainties that now were crumbling in front of his eyes. Caladiel took pity of him, as had happened so much times before, when she saw that teary blue eyes, so alike her own, but so different at the same time.

"Alone again." Came the pained whisper from the ellon, but his mother didn't seem sorry or doubtful. Her face lit up with faith instead, a strength that supported a kingdom in the past and now would raise its prince.

"You have never been alone, neither in the darkness of Moria, nor in the Gates of Mordor, won't be alone when you cross the sea. No distance come between two united fëa."

"You're contradicting yourself, nana."

"Well, ion-nîn, that's what mothers do!"

Despite the bitter taste in his mouth, Legolas had to laugh. That sentence brought back some sweet memories from a time when the only problems were his mother's apparently inconsistent attitudes. Then, Caladiel grabbed his hands waking him up from his musings, her expression changing for serious.

"I mean it, Las. We will never abandon or forget you, we're a family and nothing is going to change that. But you need to go home, to the arms of our ancestors, your heart calls for them, I can feel it."

"You won't even make the journey alone. When did you intend to tell us about the dwarf?" Sounded the strong voice behind them. Legolas was the only one who looked surprised but didn't turn to answer.

"I wasn't going to tell. It should be a surprise."

A gentle smile graced the lips of father and son. Thranduil didn't answer the provocation, choosing to walk away instead. His steps were light and slow, a way of moving very untypical of him.

The prince turned to Caladiel then, only to see her getting up and restart watering the carnations, ignoring his presence. He still took a time to observe her a little more before letting the air out of his lungs and moving towards his father. Before walking away, however, he was gifted with the elleth's attention once more.

"There are some who believe that the pink carnations symbolize the mothers there are still with us, and the white ones the mother that are now gone. I choose the red carnations for this garden because they symbolize love, and love doesn't come or go, love simply is."

With those last words and a serene smile the queen left the garden.

Directing his stare to former king of Mirkwood, the younger ellon notice how simple were his clothes were, only a green tunic, brown leggings and boots. Legolas knew that getting rid of the heavy and uncomfortable robes was one of the first things his farther would do when finally free from his royal duties, that was one wish they shared.

Thranduil wasn't wearing the crown anymore, his hair was braided in the warrior's fashion like it always had been. The prince remembered the time he – just a small elfing in the time - entered his father's bedroom during the night just to check if he ever let the hair loose. That recollection brought a smile to his lips.

It was strange see his father so integrated to that natural setting, sitting crossed-legged on the grass, leaning against the willow trunk. His expression, however, wasn't a peaceful one, his chin raised and body tense, like a captain drawing a battle plan. That picture made Legolas question how life would have been if Thranduil hadn't been a king, if they had not lived through such a hard time.

"Things are how the must be."

The younger ellon's jaw dropped and eyebrows twitched, there was an explicit question in his eyes.

"Well, ion-nîn, that's what fathers do." The king said with a ironic tone that led them both to laughter, something that hadn't happened in a while, in a long while.

The prince accommodated himself beside his father, reclining on the same tree and closing his eyes.

"I'll never understand how a riverside tree was able to grow inside a cave."

Thranduil stared at the young ellon.

"I can't explain it either. Your grandfather planted here, when I questioned him about it he told me the Willow is the immortality's tree, it's nectar could avoid even the death of the unborn, and that would be his gift to a wood elfin. In that time, of course, it didn't make any sense, but the Willow have always been your favorite tree. Even when you used to steal my peace in order to make me show you our green friends outside, even then, nothing offered you comfort as this one."

The prince stared open-mouthed at his father nonchalant expression. Rarely would Thranduil talk about Oropher, especially as a father. Long ago Legolas had given up questioning him about such matters, but now the king acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary, and the younger ellon knew it was pointless try to deepen the discussion.

"I remember this story differently." Stated Legolas with a mischievous smile, deciding that a new approach was needed.

"Is that so?! May I know how it really happened then?"

"Well, you always wanted to show me the forest, but just wouldn't admit it. Nana would surely agree with me. That means it's two against one. I win!"

"Indeed. I should probably had had more children; you mother is always on your side. It is an unfair war."

Thranduil laughed but Legolas had grow serious.

"Maybe if you had given me sisters or brothers I wouldn't be condemned to pass the eternity alone from now on."

The hurt in his son's words killed the king's laughter, but a serene smile graced his lips and his expression was peaceful.

"I saw a child, an elfing. She had silver blond hair with disheveled curls, eyes as green as our wood, she was barefooted, jumping in puddles of water, ruining a white dress. There were voices reprimanding her, but she couldn't care less, kept on running and giggling. An elfing like the sea: beautiful and unconquerable."

Thranduil finished his narrative, and absently turned to face Legolas. The king he found huge blue eyes staring at him with the same curiosity and fascination that overtakes a child.

"Who was she, Ada? Where did you see her?"

The childish anxiety in his son's voice increased the smile on Thranduil's lips.

"She will be the luckiest of all kids, for she'll have the best of the fathers." The older ellon became suddenly serious, his fingertips drying the tears that were falling down his sons cheeks, while letting his own fall freely. "You have never been and never will be alone. Nothing is perpetual, ion-nîn, not even us immortals because we are constantly reinventing ourselves. Nothing is everlasting, nor the sadness neither the happiness, not even the goodbye. Maybe it takes longer than we both would like, but I'll see my granddaughter personally, you have my word."

Above them the old Willow, too, cried.