Guess who's back? I want to thank everyone who is still reading this story, and many thanks for the reviews guys, I really appreciate it.

Now, let's go through some notes to help you with the timeline: Legolas was around five human years (15 elvish years) around the time Oropher died, an in this he is around nine. (25 in elvish years) The idea for the cloak and the ambush is from freeflow's story "Bridges". I hope you don't mind me altering it slightly and using it my story; it was very close to was I was trying to write myself.

Disclaimer: I tried to summon Tolkien's spirit to ask him, but something must have gone wrong.

Summary: I am sorry in advance for this chapter.

4.

Third Age, Year 125

The first thing Thranduil saw when he woke up was Legolas' excited youthful face. Again.

Sighing internally, the King of Greenwood looked at the princeling. Legolas was bouncing in Lindariel's side of the bed with an eager expression. This was never good. The Queen herself wasn't here, which meant that whatever Legolas wanted, it had to do only with him. Thranduil felt touched that his son favored him so much, but chasing Legolas around in the palace gardens wasn't at all how he imagined his only day without duties. The Elfling's almost constant exclamations of "Ada this" and "Ada that", only breaking with the occasional cry of "Nana!" and "Where is Ada?" when Thranduil was in the council, was a sound the King would surely remember vividly to the end of his days. As soon as Thranduil was sitting on the bed, Legolas all but threw himself at him.

"Ada! You're awake!" The statement was followed by a wide beam.

"Yes, tithen pen, I am." Thranduil run a hand over his face in a futile attempt to gather his nerves and get rid of the sleepiness.

Thranduil loved his son, he really did, but sometimes it was just too much. Legolas was a five feet bundle of inexhaustible energy, and it took all of the energy Thranduil didn't know he had to keep up with him as he run through the gardens and climbed on trees. If Thranduil hadn't been a warrior and a King, he would have never been able to even pretend not being tired. Years in the council and the different negotiations with Men gifted Thranduil with the ability to keep a neutral expression when Legolas turned to him with the fifteenth question in a minute, or when he proposed going to the gardens with such enthusiasm Thranduil couldn't resist agreeing no matter how tired he was. The King was incapable of refusing his son anything, and the Elfling knew it. Two thousand and fifty years and he had already figured out that whenever he wanted something, all he had to do was turn towards his father with those blue, wide eyes and he'd have it.

Thranduil would never forget the time Legolas had convinced him to let the little Elfling climb a tree. A tree. If someone had ever told Thranduil that his son climbing a tree would have been worse than the feeling of marching to battle, he would have laughed at them. Now, however, he knew first hand that the feeling was way worse. Legolas had been giggling and laughing the whole time, whereas Thranduil was testing his nerves. He knew his worry was a little irrational, after all Legolas was very well acquainted with the sport of climbing. However, despite the tree's various assurances that he wouldn't let the princeling fall, Thranduil couldn't help but worry every time Legolas so much as slightly wobbled in the branch. When he had told Lindariel about it the same evening, she had just laughed and told him he worried too much for his own good. Anyhow, it wasn't an experience Thranduil wanted to relive anytime soon.

In front of him, Legolas was fumbling with his tunic. Resisting the urge to sigh, the King forced himself to ask.

"Man sa, tithen las?" Legolas seemed to collect himself, and then he looked up at him with a determination and finality in his stare.

"I want to braid your warrior braids." Thranduil blinked in surprise. Of all the things he expected, this wasn't it. When his father didn't immediately reply, the Elfling seemed to think that he disagreed, and he hurried to defend his decision. "I asked Nana about them and she said that brave warriors braid their hair like that, and that if I am to be an archer when I grow up I will have them too, and she showed me how to braid them, and then I asked her if I could braid yours today and she said yes, can I Ada? Can I?"

The corners of Thranduil's mouth tugged upward at the hope in Legolas' expression. He had never given his warrior braids much thought, sometimes even forgetting he had them. After he gave up the sword for kingship in the light of his father's, King Oropher's death, he technically didn't even have to wear them anymore. It was Lindariel that had insisted, and Thranduil hadn't opposed, since it only took ten minutes of their time in the morning for her to braid them. With an amused smile, Thranduil agreed, and his smile widened as he watched his son's face lit up.

Second Age, 3434

"Nana, why is Ada hurt?"

Lindariel turned around in surpise at her son's sudden question.

"What do you mean, penneth?" She asked carefully.

"Well, Ada and Daeradar left with many elves and only Ada and less elves came back." Legolas said with the childish innocence he still had. "Why Nana? Where is Daeradar?" His blue eyes were wide and innocent, and young, so young. Lindariel didn't know how to answer his questions. She settled for the easiest one.

"Daeradar has passed in the Halls of Mandos." She said finally.

"Is that why Ada is sad?" Legolas asked again. The Queen's face softened.

"Yes, tithen las, tis why."

"But why did he die? Where did they go? Why was Ada hurt?" Lindariel sighed internally. How do you explain the concept of war to a toddler? She decided to play it safe.

"What has Halden told you about Sauron?" Halden was Legolas' tutor and Lindariel didn't want to tell him more than he already had.

"The Dark Lord with the ring who wanted to rule Arda and hurt people?" Legolas frowned, obviously not seeing the connection.

"Yes." Lindariel said. "Him. You see, he was starting to hurt too many people, so Daeradar and Ada, with the help of Lord Elrond and the King of Men decided to stop him." Legolas nodded, obviously engrossed in her explanation. It made Lindariel even more anxious about what to say to her son, how to make him understand without depriving him of his childish innocence.

"Did they stop him?" The Elfling asked.

"Yes, penneth, they did."

"How?" Lindariel shallowed, and took some time to prepare her answer.

"Well, tithen las," she began slowly "they had to make sure that he would not hurt anyone again."

"Did they lock him in the dungeons?" Legolas asked with the childish naivety his age provided him. The worst punishment he knew was the dungeons, because they were dark and scary and Daeradar only sent bad people there. Lindariel winced.

"No, I fear their solution was a bit more, um drastic and... permanent." Legolas just stared at her, his face impassive, revealing nothing. Lindariel inwardly cursed Thranduil's ability to keep a straight face in any situation that he had apparently inherited to his son.

"Did they kill him?" Lindariel blinked at the casual and nonchalant tone the question was delivered. Legolas was too young to understand the true meaning of what he suggested. He didn't look scared, or disgusted, just... curious.

"Yes." She said when she overcame her surprise. "King Isuldur, the ruler of Men, killed him." The Elfling nodded, not fazed by the answer.

"But then why did Daeradar passed in the Halls of Mandos? Why is Ada hurt?" Lindariel suppressed a sigh as the questions grew more difficult.

"Well, tithen las," inwardly she cursed her repetency and continued, choosing her next words carefully. "Sauron had grown very powerful and he would not let himself be easily defeated. He gathered an army of Orcs, and we had to gather an army ourselves if we were to stand against him. So, Elves and Men gathered together and marched to battle. Battles are very nasty events tithen pen. In them, many people get hurt like Ada, and some die, like Daeradar." Knowing she needed a distraction if no more questions were to arise, she added "But now you are too young to know about things like that. Halden will explain them when you're older."

"Everybody keeps saying I'm too young to do things!" Lindariel silently congratulated herself.

"Who else said that?" She drove the topic further away from the Battle of the Last Alliance.

"'Ro an 'Dan would not let me climb the trees in the garden because they said I was too young, and I would fall and get hurt, and then Ada would have their ears." The Elfling huffed. "That is not true. Ada would not kill them because I fell. Ada is nice." Lindariel chuckled, and watched as Legolas raced to find the twin sons of Elrond. Thranduil neared behind her, and put a hand around her waist.

"You have corrupted the Elfling Thranduil. He thinks you infallible." Lindariel said with a smile. Thranduil grinned.

"Your words wound me, meleth nîn. Am I not infallible?"

Third Age, Year 125

Smiling softly to herself, Lindariel twisted on her horse's back in order to talk to Legolas. So like her in beauty and grace, the Elfling had nevertheless inherited his father's free spirit, strength and ability with words. She didn't even know how he had convinced her to let him ride his own horse. And so it was with another sigh, this time of resignation, and a surge of concern that she realized she had failed to spot the blond hair of her child.

"Company, halt!"

Lindariel's exasperated order was heeded immediately by the consort of twelve warriors accompanying their Queen. As one, they all dismounted and, some with small smiles and others muttering wagers, they filtered in to the forest in search of their small Prince.

"Prince Legolas! Prince Legolas!"

Lindariel stayed on her horse and waited, smiling in slight disbelief at the skill of her child; this was the third time today that Legolas had managed to disappear, eluding twelve of the best warriors and their considerable tracking abilities. He was going to be trouble in a few years, if he could be this efficient at this age. And, if Lindariel was honest, Legolas wasn't even trying. He kept wandering off to explore; when he had spotted a new kind of bird, he had been gone for so long that the Queen had almost sent back to Mirkwood for extra search parties.

Even through her worry she couldn't help but laugh at her son's garbled explanation when they'd finally caught up with him.

"Nana! Did you see it? A bird, it was yellow Nana! I didn't know birds came in yellow. Red, and stripes of blue, and maybe even orange sometimes, but this one was yellow. Are all Lord Elrond's birds yellow? I wish we had yellow birds. Can we get one, to keep at home? I could probably train one, Nana, if you help me catch it. I bet 'Dan and 'Ro have seen lots of yellow birds."

Lindariel's head snapped around just as a green blur dropped from the tree above, to land unceremoniously on her, causing her to lose her balance and fall off her horse.

Of course, at this, four blades were levelled at Lindariel's assailant, and the unwavering metal seemed to shriek in anger at the intrusive attack. Within a heartbeat, the swords were joined by multiple arrow tips, as the two were suddenly surrounded by eight long bow wielding elves, each waiting for the command that would end this threat.

However, when it came, the message was not as expected, nor was it intended for them.

"I got you Nana! Did you hear me coming? I was practicing prowling, like Ada showed me. And it worked! Did you see Nana?"

At this outburst, each of the elves relaxed their stance. Naturally, they still could not see him, as he remained hidden under Lindariel's body, but every elf in the contingent knew that voice, that boundless enthusiasm. It was only now the Queen's fear and surprise began to reside enough for her to speak.

"Legolas! What on Arda are you doing? You could have been killed! We thought you were an enemy, ambushing me like that. And how many times do I have to say it, stay on your horse! These woods are dangerous, you cannot go around like that! I would not have let you ride your own horse had I known you would not follow the rules."

Lindariel pulled herself to her feet and hauled Legolas up to perch on her hip. Looking properly chastised, the young Prince hung his head, sorry for upsetting his mother. The Queen looked down at the Elfling in an imposing fashion, hoping this would finally force home the importance of 'listening to Nana', a lesson belabored but scarcely realized in the Oropherion household.

Legolas' long blond hair was neatly braided behind his ears, and he was dressed in the green tunic and hooded cape that he liked to wear whilst in the forest. Rather old and even threadbare in places, Lindariel knew that her own mother would have apoplexy if she could see her grandson, but the Elfling had declared them to be "my most comfortable, hideable, bendable clothes. And they're green. I like green." At this, the Queen was swayed, and the clothes had stayed.

Looking down at the Elfling, Lindariel realized that his eyes were in fact brimming with unshed tears. Despite being mischievous, Legolas could not stand to see anyone sad or worried. Lindariel recognized this immediately and wrapped her arms around her boy.

"Legolas, just promise me you'll stay with the company until we have reached the borders of Rivendell. It ought to be safe there, and you can explore to your heart's content within the confines of Elrond's lands." The Prince's face cleared a little at the underlying forgiveness in this statement. "Or else I will make you wear your cloak for the remaining of the trip." Legolas' face immediately fell and he opened his mouth to protest.

The cloak had been a matter of contention for some time now in the royal household. Ornate and heavy, it was approved of by the King's tailor and friend, Erianth. Of course, it was highly impractical for a child whose favorite pastime was to climb trees and wander amongst the flora of his home. Yet, it was very well-made and kept the Elfling warm. Both she and her husband had insisted, and so, the cloak had stayed.

For three days. Then it began disappearing.

The first time, the cook had found it behind the stock of wine barrels in the cellar. Legolas had no idea how it had got there. The next occasion had the cloak hanging from the tiles on the roof, overlooking the stables. Although Lindariel imagined Legolas had actually been wearing it that time, she decided that not knowing exactly how the item had become caught on the edge of a roof with a twenty foot drop beneath it was better for her own state of mind. Her son was not visibly marked, so on that occasion, the Queen followed the adage 'ignorance is bliss'.

Still, the cloak returned. Again and again it appeared in strange locations only for its owner to deny all knowledge of how it came to be there. Thranduil's advisors had many stories to tell of the various excuses the little Prince found.

"Let us set camp here." The Queen said, seeing that the sun was beginning to fall dangerously close to the line of the horizon. The warriors accompanying them immediately nodded and started setting what was needed to spend the nigh there.

Second Age, Year 3434

The sound of his bedroom door opening and closing distracted Thranduil's attention from the trade papers he was reading. The King watched as Legolas made the distance from the door to the bed he was sitting on and then proceeded to climb it.

"Legolas?" Thranduil finally asked as the little prince tried to hide himself under the covers. "What are you doing?"

"Hiding." The blonde hair appeared from the sheets, only to disappear under them once more. The King frowned.

"Hiding from who?"

The Elfling propped his head from the covers once more, this time wearing an annoyed expression. "From 'Ro and 'Dan."

"Why?" Thranduil didn't bother to hide his confusion. As far as he was concerned, his son had grown to be very close to the Imlandris' twins. If anything, he was usually searching for them rather than hiding from them.

"Because I wanted to go and climb the trees in the gardens and they would not let me. Again. So I am hiding, and they will search but they will not be able to find me and then they will grow worried, and that will teach them to call me clumsy." Thranduil made a mental note to never get on his son's bad side. The small Elfling already know how much everybody cared for him, and had apparently decided that this would be the best punishment for the twins, and Thranduil could not disagree with him. He knew that this would be the worst punishment on him.

"Yes, but then they will be angry at you." Thranduil tried to reason with the boy.

"No, they won't." Legolas stated confidently. "They will scold me, but they will be too revealed to see me to stay mad at me." Thranduil resisted the urge to laugh as he realized that the little one had them all wrapped around his fingers, for what Legolas had described would have been his exact reaction. Suddenly, Legolas' eyes sparkled in that way that meant he had an idea. Before Thranduil could worry over it, the Elfling threw himself at in his arms.

"Will you tell me a story Ada? Will you? Please Ada, just one!" The King's face softened the more his son pleaded.

"Well, back in the First Age, the High King Gil-galad..."

Third Age, Year 125

No one noticed anything was wrong until Legolas started screaming.

At first, Legolas didn't think anything of the bad feeling of unease he had as he fell asleep, but as the night progressed the feeling grew worse. When the trees started screaming, Legolas woke up immediately, and without thinking opened his mouth and screamed along with them. At once, the entire party of Elves was awake.

"Legolas, Legolas tithen las nîn, what's wrong?" Lindariel cupped her son's face in her hands. Legolas was violently sobbing as he clung into his mother's tunic. If the Queen hadn't been so frantic and worried about her son, she would have heard the trees earlier. But she didn't, and instead continued trying to get an answer out of Legolas as the guards watched silently.

"Trees..." Legolas managed between sobs. "The trees..."

And for the first time Lindariel listened, and her lips parted in mute horror and shock. Her eyes turned to the captain and the rest of the guards, only to find her expression mirrored there. The trees were screaming and weeping, as the fire in the forest spread.

There was no warning as a group of cloaked figures emerged suddenly. The guards immediately drew their weapons and went to stand protectively in front of the Queen and the little prince.

This was Legolas' first battle.

Later, he wouldn't remember much. But he would remember that his Nana was right when she said battles were bad. He hadn't seen much, because as soon as the first clash of swords sounded, Lindariel grabbed the Elfling and climbed up a tree. Legolas curled into his mother's side as the sounds of battle sounded beneath them and the cries of the dying trees pierced the forest as the darkness of the night lessened by the scarlet color of fire.

The prince barely registered the tree they were taking refuge on catching on fire as well and Lindariel leaping from it with him in her arms. All around him were loud noises, cries, smoke and his mother's familiar scent as she pressed him into her and Legolas decided then that he really didn't like battles.

The only he would remember -if not clearly, then better than the rest of them- was the only thing he ought not to.

Legolas realized that his mother had stopped running, and picked from where he had his face pressed against her leg. In front of them stood what Legolas guessed was a human since he didn't look at all like an elf. His hair was short and slimy, falling into his eyes that gleamed murderously, and Legolas thought that he looked like the orcs in the twins' stories. In his one hand, he held a sword and in his other one a shield. He was eyeing the Elfling with a nasty expression, and Lindariel glared at him, putting a hand on the blond head protectively.

"You will not touch him." She growled, a small dagger appearing in her hands. The man smirked and charged at her. Lindariel fought bravely, cleverly taking the battle away from Legolas, but the match was uneven, because an Elf she may be, but the Queen of Eryn Galen wasn't trained for battle. Legolas was trying to make himself as small as he could. He wanted to help his mom, but he was scared and he didn't know what to do, so he stayed where he was, not able to take his eyes off the battle in front of him.

Time seemed to slow as the Lindariel's dagger hit the grass and the scary man's sword pierced through her body. Legolas guessed she must have screamed, her mouth snapped open as red liquid poured from her wound, but neither now nor in his later nightmares would he be able to tell which scream belonged to her and which to him.

"NANA!"

He was running before he registered what he was doing, the small dagger left his hand before Legolas realized he had picked it up and thrown it at the man, reacting on impulse at seeing his mother hurt. Legolas didn't see it impaling itself at the middle of the scary man's forehead, didn't see the man's eyes go black, didn't see him falling. He eyes were focused entirely on his mother.

Lindariel's body lay on the ground even though Legolas couldn't remember it falling. Her piercing blue eyes, so much like his own stared back at him in pain.

"Nana, nana..." Legolas was sobbing and repeating the words over and over as her kneeled next to her. Lindariel gave him a smile, but it was sad. Her hand reached up to cup her son's face, wiping away his tears that just kept flowing. Legolas little hand curled around her wrist and Lindariel's other hand suddenly shot up and grabbed it.

"Go." She said, and although her words were laced with pain the light in her eyes was determined and her voice certain. "Go." She repeated more forcefully.

Legolas shook his head, the tears blurring his vision. "I'm got going to leave you here." He sobbed.

"Yes you will." Lindariel said softly. "You have to go, tithen las nîn, you can't let them catch you. Gwestol nîn." Her grip on Legolas' hand turned painful. "Gwestol nîn tithen las." Her eyes were pleading him, and Legolas nodded.

"Gwestol le, Nana." He sobbed. "Gwestol le."

Lindariel nodded, satisfied. She gasped once, and her grip slackened, her hand fell at the grass as her eyes went dark. Legolas looked at her in horror and then he ran. He couldn't see where he was going, the tears blurred his vision and he stumbled, but he didn't stop. The trees around him were burning and it was dark and it the smell of smoke was suffocating, but Legolas ran. Away from the battle, away from the scary men, away from his mother who couldn't see him anymore.

A hand closed around his wrist, and the image of his mother doing the very same thing made Legolas stop short. A pain at the back of his head and then everything faded away.

Sindarin Translation

tithen las (nîn)= (my) little leaf

penneth= young one

Man sa?= what is it?

tithen pen= little one

Ada= Dad /Daddy

Nana= Mom /Mommy

Daeradar= grandfather

Arda= Middle-Earth

meleth nîn= my love

Gwestol nîn= promise me

Gwestol le, Nana= I promise you, mom

*hides under desk* Please don't kill me!