A series of drabbles involving Legolas before he leaves to join the Fellowship, and in the future after he returns to Mirkwood.
I have the idea that he travelled back to Mirkwood to inform his family of the decision. This first chapter is entitled "To Spite the Darkness", because I am of the opinion that Thranduil always kept things lively in Mirwood despite the darkness that lurked there (think feasting in the forest, even though just a few yards away the dwarves are getting attacked by giant spiders), and Legolas was pretty happy himself in the Fellowship (think all his witty remarks to Gandalf while on Caradhras).
This story features OC's from my other stories. Gíl-wen is the daughter of Gil-galad, so Legolas has both grandfathers die during the Last Alliance.
It also features the OC's of BrownEyedGirl87 who was kind enough to come up with a slew of Mirkwood warriors for me, who shall be having adventures with Legolas, the Twins and Estel in future works. Plot bunnies are still hoping about.
It is set in the same story line as Proud, Beautiful and Strong, but you do not necessarily have to read that story to enjoy this oneshot…which I hope you do! Though do note, that Finwë and Aglar are royal household pets :)
Also, Feruin, who is Legolas' little son, name means "Fiery Beech" and his nick-name is tithen lhach which means "little flame".
Well, enjoy and Happy New Year! I will update Proud, Beautiful and Strong tonight as a New Year's gift!
L'Chaim… Philosophie88
The Queen of Mirkwood stood before the tapestry depicting the death of Oropher. She had never known her father-in-law, but she knew that his temperament was much like her husband's- stubborn and proud to a fault. Thranduil had the tapestry commissioned and ordered it to be hung in the halls of the family wing, to remind him and his sons that pride had its downside, but also that loyalty went beyond death.
Countless dead elves lay before the gates of Bara-dur in the background. In the foreground, Thranduil knelt on the ground cradling his adar's bloody head to his chest, tears streaming down his cheeks. Oropher's own face was peaceful. Near the fallen elves flew the banner of the Greenwood, unfurled by the gentle breeze.
Gíl-wen sighed softly. She was certain that while the slaughter behind the rulers was quite accurate, Oropher's peaceful death in the arms of his son was not. The queen reached out to touch the depiction of her husband's tear-strewn face.
"Naneth." came the soft voice of the crown prince behind her. "Naneth, I have been looking all over for you. Will you not come join the others before I depart? Adar has gotten out his best wine."
She dropped her hand and shook herself from her silent reverie, but still she did not turn. "He would, would he not? Sauron could be at the very gates of these halls and yet he would pause for a glass of Dorwinion. There are several things wrong with this tapestry." She mused aloud. "Your father would never openly cry. He hides his grief in stubborness and merriment. How we had hoped when we wed that your life and that of your brothers and sisters would be free of the shadow. And yet the shadow grew…"
She turned to face her son. "You must go, ion nin; you must join this fellowship and see to it that your grandfathers are avenged."
"I intend to, for my daeradars, naneth." Legolas embraced his mother. "Shall we not join the others? It is my last night home. Rinaer and Hilrochir will be there as well, as if they would miss a chance to annoy me. I should like some pleasant memories to bear with me on the quest."
"Of course, ion nin. Will Maefaron be joining us as well? I assume your father-in-law is quite proud of your accomplishments and honored that you have been chosen as one of the Nine Companions."
Legolas' face saddened at the mention of the captain of his father's guard, who was both his law-father and his old mentor. "Nay, naneth, he will not be joining us. Arphenion was on the last patrol…" her son fell silent.
The last patrol had returned with half of the warriors wounded or slain.
Gil-wen could only imagine the worst. She usually tended to wounded warriors and offered condolences to the families of those fallen. But that particular patrol had only come in yesterday and, with Legolas' return, she had been preoccupied with spending as much time with her eldest as she could.
She had lost a father and a mother to the malice of Sauron; she did not wish to lose a son; yet, she could not stop him, duty-bound as he was. So Gil-wen wished to spend every waking minute in his presence, to memorize his laughter, the twinkle in his eye he inherited from his father, the bad jokes he told which undoubtedly he had learned from Glorfindel on his travels to Imladris, the playfulness he exhibited towards his siblings, and the sweet, tenderness with which he interacted with his own small family, wife and son. She dared not to think of the possibility of his demise. Perhaps she was being selfish: she only wanted to be with her son and not worry about the rest of the kingdom for at least one day. But she was a queen, and a queen was a mother to all her people.
"Did he lose his son, Legolas?" she asked quietly. Arphenion was Maefaron's youngest son and Legolas' brother-in-law.
"Yes, Naneth." The queen sent up a silent prayer to the Valar to guide his feä to the Halls of Mandos, as well as another to protect her own two children who were still currently on patrol.
"I shall go to him tomorrow. No doubt Rîneth will come with me as well. We shall take care of Maefaron, while you are away." Rîneth was Legolas' childhood friend and wife, and now all the family that Maefaron had left– his first wife had died at the crossing of the Grinding Ice and his second wife had only been recently wounded by spiders and left to Valinor where she could heal. "You see now the urgency of your quest. Our forest shall never be free of the shadow unless the Ring is destroyed. The halfling is courageous to carry such a burden and I pray for all our sakes he succeeds."
They reached the end of the hall and turned into a large sitting room, ornamented in portraits of the royal family that hung between pillars of twisted beech trees. Gathered together in the room were her husband, children, daughter-in-law, grandchild and some household guards who were friends with Legolas. Before entering the room, the queen and crown prince paused to watch the scene unfold.
Thranduil was seated in large oaken chair near the fire place with a little golden haired elfling seated on his lap, reaching little hands up to his grandfather's crown to pull at the berries entwined there. The Elven King did not seem to mind the distraction of his grandson, and was intently reading the open book to three figures sprawled upon the floor before him, listening to their father tell the tale. Across from this lounging cluster of fair haired ellyn, sat a pretty dark-haired maiden, sipping a glass of honeyed milk, while caressing her growing belly with her slender hand. Behind the pregnant elleth stood Rîneth, braiding her sister-in-law's black tresses. Leaning near some pillars in the far corner of the room, as if not to disturb the family setting, stood two ellyn dressed in the uniforms of the palace guard.
"And so Finwë the Fearsome Rabbit and Aglar the Atrocious Moose saved the valley of Imladris from the terrible invasion of the dusty bunnies that lurked in the darkness of the underbeds, and thus was Erestor the Guardian of All Things Good happy for the time being."
Thranduil finished the story in his most dramatic voice and soft laughter came from the gathered elves at the imaginitive tales of their mother. Gil-wen had written a series of short stories for Feruin on his first begetting day entitled Finwe and Aglar, Mighty Adventures, and featured an Overbearing Lord named Elrond, a Mighty Warrior named Glorfindel, and a Tidy Guardian named Erestor along side the moose and rabbit in the lovely vale of Imladris.
Feruin clapped his tiny hands in amusement at the story's cessation and exclaimed: "Again, dae-ada, again."
"Nay, tithen lhach," (little flame) the King replied laying aside the book and motioning his grandson in the direction of the doorway where his grandmother and father stood. "Your ada has found daernana and now the party can begin aright."
The elfling clapped his hands again in delight and scampered down the king to run to Legolas.
"Ada, Ada! We have party. For you and us. Before you leave to go on a quest like Finwë and Aglar."
Legolas caught his son as he bound forward into his arms and lifted the squealing little elf into his arms, quickly kissing his cheek. "Indeed, ion nin, and now daernaneth is here to help us eat the berry cakes."
"Berry cakes!" exclaimed the young elfling excitedly. "We must find them, Ada." He continued rather seriously, cupping his father's face in his hands to look him in the eyes. His own bright blue eyes animated with youthful enthusiasm. "Dae-ada hid them so sneaky elflings could not get them."
Legolas rested his forehead gently on his little son's. "And who might these sneaking elflings be, ion nin? Surely, not yourself."
Feruin giggled and pointed over his father's head to the two guards who had joined the royal family. "Rinaer and Hilrochir, Ada." He giggled even more, amused by the idea that he had called two big elves little sneaky elflings.
"Ahhhh, and here I thought they were fierce warriors."
"Nay, Ada, they are silly… and sneaky… and they steal all the berry cakes if we let them."
Legolas shifted his son to set him upon his broad shoulders, so that the elfling could have a better view of the room, and turned to face his warrior friends. The two guards in question smiled endearingly at their little prince. Rinaer, the more playful of two, stepped forward to meet the princes producing a tray of fresh berry tarts he had brought for the gathering, courtesy of his mother, who was little Feruin's nanny.
"Yes, I am quite sneaky, tithen caun (little prince). I have stolen the berry tarts, but I have saved some for you."
Feruin put his hands on his little hips, while Legolas held firmly to his legs.
"Does your naneth know?" he said in his best disapproving voice.
Rinaer laughed merrily. "Of course not, my prince, I was quite sneaky."
The little one crossed his hands over his chest at that reply. "I shall have to tell her you were a naughty elfling then." But he reached out his short arms anyways towards the treats. "But first give me the berry tarts. I shall eat them and help you hide your badness."
Meanwhile, Gíl-wen had crossed the room to her husband's side, after briefly stopping to kiss her pregnant daughter on the cheek and greet her daughter-in-law. She now sat in the oaken chair which Thranduil had graciously given up and sipped on the glass of Dorwinion her husband poured for her. She watched the whole exchange between the little elfling and the woodland guard with quiet amusement.
Her heart grew light at the sight of such innocence in the midst of the encroaching shadow. Here in this little room, among friends and family, was the reason her son was to follow in the footsteps of his grandsires. This blissful evening would soon be over; even now, a few halls down, other elves mourned the loss of family and friends. But with the hope that the fellowship would be successful in the days to come came the hope that such cheerful gatherings would abound in the future and the loss of family and friendship would diminish.
Gíl-wen turned to smile up at her husband, who returned the gesture with grey-blue eyes, twinkling above his glass of Dorwinion.
Yes, Thranduil would always be merry in spite of the darkness, and because of this the Greenwood would live to see many such evenings, alive with the revelry of her merry elves.