It had never truly been easy to not speak of the past, even though, when all arrived, Legolas was yet a child of ten years. He could barely remember being so young, after all these centuries, yet the day the woman came was one he could never erase from his memories. She was the fairest he had ever laid eyes on. He remembered the way she looked upon Thranduil's face, his very own father. Even as a child, Legolas knew what that meant. He wondered how his mother would consider such a matter, yet ended up not mentioning a single word about it to her. After all, she was a generous woman, one who knew of the past Thranduil had once shared with this fair lady.

He soon learned of her name - Saffeira. She had gazed upon his father with hope and love, her arms craddling a baby barely a month of age. Legolas could have done no more than to stare with curiosity, and listen to the infant's cries. It was a girl, he knew it.

That night, his father did not return to his chamber. Instead, he had spent his time expressing Saffeira his deepest sympathy and giving her his solace. Legolas remembers sneaking into the place to hide behind the curtains. He had watched Thranduil place his hand upon hers who wept lowly, his other palm over her shoulder. She had taken her escape with her newborn from her own home. Her lord husband has denied her, and he asked that none of his followers should get involved with the chaos of Middle-Earth, between all the living beings and the dark lord Sauron. He had shouted upon her and called her ignorant, that she may never understand the sacrifice she was asking him to make in order to go to war. What was between them had always been loveless, for he loved her not, and her heart belonged to another. And now, facing that very man, she had found the urge to feel the sweetness and softness of his lips, and embrace him within her arms. It has been decades since their last encounter, and now, she had the daughter of another, and he had the son to another.

Legolas remembers that loud cry the infant had made in her bed. Something guided him towards her, pulled his body towards her. He wanted to go and see the child's face, and the very same eyes she had, as green as her lady mother's. "What is her name?" he had asked Saffeira the next morning, watching her craddle her daughter inside her arm before the balcony. "Sairene." The woman had smiled winsomely towards the little boy he was. Her touch was gentle, as she placed her fingers upon his shoulder, "Know this Legolas, that Sairene may become a sister of yours starting today. Promise me, that you will love her the way I will." Love...he understood little of that word, and the complexity of it, but he still nodded with determination over her. It warmed his heart just to see the lady grin so brightly, as she lowered her arms and asked that he tries to hold the baby. It was nothing like he had ever felt before, as if there was a connection. The infant was way too little to understand, yet she smiled upon the boy's blue eyes, as though she had recognized him. She opened her mouth, reaching her tiny fingers over to his cheek, looking like she wanted to call him brother if only she could.

Yes, Legolas liked not of the thought of another woman inside his father's heart than his own mother, yet he loved Saffeira dearly, ever since he first laid eyes on her. He grew to love her, her grace, her gentleness, her kindness, and her beauty, and he would too learn to love her one daughter, Sairene.

Sighing, he patted his horse's pale white neck as they came to a halt. It's been ages, and all he could wish was that he could only ever see the fair lady's face again. He knew it to be impossible, for he could only smile upon her daughter, when watching the cheerful sister of his hop off her horse before the gates of Rivendell. Sairene had nearly jumped into Boromir's arms to embrace him. The girl, she didn't know a thing, the past is something only forgotten for her, for she believed herself to be none other than Thranduil's daughter. But the past may never fade away for Legolas, for it has been deep inside him since the very beginning, and will be until the very end.