The Black Arrow

by ziggy3

When Thranduil entered the dragon's lair, it was not gold that he sought but something much more precious. Many years later, Thorin Oakenshield arrives in the Wood and suddenly, time is running out and Thranduil must consider his promise to Smaug. Ch 26: Bilbo explains to Legolas what happened in the Hall of the Elvenking, whilst a dwarvish army is assembled at the gates of Erebor.

4. Chapter 4 Keeping Secrets

Disclaimer: no money in this, no profit etc. No beta as I already work my lovely Anar into the ground with MDLW.

Thank you to the wonderful people who review and make it worth writing; love-warmth-life, freddie23, Alanic, Isa/Ethele, kimberley kim, Melusine. And the very many more who favourited or are following now. This little fix was only supposed to be a one shot single chapter but because of you lovely people reviewing, it's encouraged me to write a bit more of it.

( A couple of peo;le have PMd me to say they are worried about reviewing please don't be-I know I was for ages when I first starting reading fanfic- rest assured that no one can trace you or knows who you are and I always respond personally to reviews if you login. It's a really nice thing to hear when people have liked you work.

Note about characters:

Laersul - Thranduil's oldest son

Thalos- middle son

Legolas of course you know.

Anglach - Legolas' friend. He is killed when the Orcs distract the Elves and Smeagol is freed. It is Anglach that Legolas tells Glorfindel of as he promised himself.

Silarôs - another warrior who also was guarding Smeagol although he survives.

Thranduil and Galion you will also know from The Hobbit.

Chapter 5: Keeping Secrets

It was late in the Autumn and only a matter of weeks since he and Galion had returned from Erebor. Thranduil was at his desk, reading Thalos' reports from the East Bite and mapping the patrols on a large map. The map was held open by a jug of wine over Rhovanion, a delicately carved bowl that had come from Menegroth holding down the Havens, and a half full wine glass holding down Minas Tirith. An unused wine glass stood over Far Harad. The other corner was held down by his left elbow as he reached across the Forest river with his right hand to stab a red mark far down in the South near to the old stronghold that was now known as Dol Guldur.

Spiders had been creeping forwards, he noticed, from the blue line of a month ago, to the red line of this month. They came closer and closer, and there were more of them. He cast his eye across the map, noting the small stars which showed where colonies had been discovered and destroyed. But although they destroyed many, it did not seem to dent the numbers of spiders. He sighed.

'The same heaviness is in my heart, my lord,' came a beloved voice from the door. He looked up in astonishment and delight to see Laersul's tall frame filling the doorway, the candle and firelight gilded him, stroked his long hair that was the same colour of gold coins as Thranduil's.

'Laersul!' he exclaimed and took two strides over to his oldest son and pulled him into a hug, leaving the maps to leap into a curling mess. He pulled down his tall son's head to kiss the top of his ear for it was many years since he had been able to reach the top of his head, and steered him to the padded and comfortable chair near the fire that he had let go out. With a word, he kindled the fire and it leapt into life. He scooped up the empty glass that had been holding down Far Harad and filled it with red wine from the jug that had left a red circle upon Rhovanion.

As he pressed the glass goblet into his son's large, capable hands he noted a dark smudge on his cheek. It is mud, he told himself and tried not to wipe it away, to check if the stain was damp. He knew Laersul, unlike Thalos or Legolas, would never present himself without having cleaned and changed so it said something about his haste to see his father that he had missed the smudge. He could not resist it however, and reached forward, wiping the smudge from his oldest son's cheek. Mud, he thought with an intensity of relief he could hardly believe possible.

'You have arrived just in time for supper,' he said smiling broadly and threw himself into the opposite chair. 'It will be rabbit pie.' He wanted to ask what had brought Laersul back from the South unannounced but he would not spoil these few precious moments first.

'Ah,' Laersul winced and drank deeply of the rich wine. 'Galion is cooking tonight?' They looked at each other and smiled ruefully for Gaeros the cook was clearly having a night off which left Galion in charge. He was famously heavy-handed with the pastry and wine alike and believed that rabbit pie was his particular speciality. It was viewed with dismay by the King and his sons alike.

'Well…' Laersul looked like he was considering a better offer, which he might well be, thought Thranduil and wondered if Laersul was courting anyone. There was a maid, Theliel, who had been flirting with him on and off for centuries but where the maid was warm, Laersul was courteous to a fault. Thranduil longed to tell his quietest son to throw caution to the wind. But he had vowed many years ago never to interfere. And Laersul would take his time, unlike Thranduil's other two more mercurial sons. He had a quality of stillness rare in a Woodelf and all who knew him trusted Laersul as they did no one else; for he never gave advice unless it was asked for, and he never gave away a secret.

'What word from the South?' Thranduil asked, trying to be calm and unruffled but worried, for his other son, Thalos, was still in the Shadowed Wood. And this visit, whilst an unexpected delight, was unexpected nevertheless and therefore might herald some great evil or tragic news. 'Is there movement from Dol Guldur?'

Laersul shook his head, smiling slightly as if he read his father's thoughts. 'No. It is surprisingly quiet. I have reports from Thalos that the East Bite is also quiet. So I took advantage of the lull to return here to find out if something I heard was true.' He raised his eyebrow and looked quizzically at his father.

Thranduil had the oddest sensation that he was about to be in trouble with his own son. He thought he knew why and steeled himself.

'I hear you and Galion have been on a trip.' Laersul continued and took a mouthful of wine although his eyes never left his father's face. 'Along the river.'

'Oh?' Thranduil was surprised at the quality of Laersul's information and the speed. It seemed that someone had talked. Galion? Or they had been seen on the river. More likely, he thought. He waved airily. 'That was weeks ago.' Thranduil raised his own goblet and drank deeply. He rolled the rich, smooth wine around his mouth before swallowing it and savoured the warmth that fired in his belly. 'Yes. It was a most pleasant trip. There is beauty in everything, even in wasteland.'

'Across the Long Lake to the other side,' Laersul continued and watched Thranduil. He reminded Thranduil uncomfortably of Oropher at that moment and it took him a moment to recover himself.

He remembered too, that like Oropher, there was never any point in avoiding the subject with Laersul. He liked to cut to the chase. Thalos would have enjoyed some conversation first, he thought, and the battle of wits. He said, 'Surely this is not what has brought you back from the South?'

'Do you think I should not be concerned that the King has been to Erebor?' Laersul said with measured calm although he smoothed his hand over his braids in the barest sign of his agitation.

He stared at Thranduil for a moment and pressed his lips together as if no more words would escape. Taking another mouthful of wine, he swallowed without tasting it and Thranduil briefly realised that he wasted good wine on all his sons for not one of them appreciated it.

'I would not put myself in danger unless there was a greater good,' he replied.

Laersul glanced up at him sharply. 'I know that you will have had good reason to do whatever it is you have done…but still, you put yourself in danger without needing to. Without telling anyone.'

Ah. That was it. He had not told Laersul, Thranduil thought. And Laersul had not been there to protect him. He smiled very gently his serious, sweet son, who had been such an earnest child with such a sense of responsibility for everyone else…A memory struck him hard.

Legolas clinging to his big brother's tunic because Thranduil was too busy and too mired in his own grief. The child swinging on Laersul, demanding first, then whining. 'Read to me, Laersul, read me the story of Glorfindel and the Balrog.' For the millionth time. Laersul did not sigh but reached down and lifted him onto his hip when most others would have reproached the child, forgetting their bereavement. Legolas snuggled up to Laersul in front of the fire in their father's study and read to him. Never once did he reproach Legolas for his demands, nor Thranduil for his neglect.

It was the same chair that Laersul sat in now, looking at his father expectantly.

Thranduil said, 'I did indeed go to Erebor and I went on an errand that would save the Wood from great danger. I am back. I suffered no harm. Nor did Galion.'

Laersul glanced at him obliquely, much as Thranduil himself would have done. 'And did that involve a Dragon?'

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. He held Laersul's steadfast gaze for a moment and then, because this was his son who risked his life every day in the South and whom he trusted more than anyone else alive, he told him, 'I have seen Smaug. I have spoken with him King to King. We have a treaty.'

Laersul fell back against the chair, in wonder and horror. 'You two went alone into the Mountain? You negotiated with Smaug?' He smacked his hand against the chair. 'He could have…' He bit off the words, pressed his lips together and looked at Thranduil furiously. 'You could have been killed,' he said in distress.

'I left Galion outside so he would not annoy the Dragon,' Thranduil smiled tightly but Laersul did not smile. 'And I am here, alive, unharmed. So all is well,' Thranduil continued. 'And the Wood is safe from Smaug at least. I have his word.'

Laersul stared at Thranduil for what seemed an age until again, he ran a hand over his braids and looked away. He shook his head slightly in disbelief. 'Smaug is a great threat to the Wood, father. If we had Smaug attack on one side and the Shadow on the other, I do not think I could hold them both.' He was silent, seeming to struggle inwardly and then finally, he sighed in resignation. 'If you truly have his word that he will not attack the Wood, I cannot be more relieved. I confess I am still unhappy it was you that went, but glad that you have returned safely.'

'It could be no other, Laersul. I had to treat with him,' Thranduil said earnestly. He paused, remembering the magnificence, the beauty…the Song of the Dragon seeking the winds beyond the circles of the world, seeking the secret flame, spiralling ever upwards and upwards…doomed always to fail, chained to the earth. 'And I confess, I am glad I did. I am glad I saw the last great Dragon.' He spoke a little defiantly he knew, but he wanted Laersul, of all people, to understand too.

He would not speak of the Arkenstone, he had already decided, or his promise. He had nine years and he would tell Laersul when the time came. Let him enjoy the life he has for the moment. There is enough bitterness already. And the truth was, he hoped to find a different way.

Laersul narrowed his eyes and sat back in the comfortable chair. 'There is more, father, I see it in you. But I trust that you will tell me if you think it serves the Wood,' he said shrewdly and Thranduil half smiled in rueful pride.

'I will tell you more if it becomes necessary. But for now, my heart, trust that your father is right.'

'Very well, my lord.' Laersul inclined his head, for this was also the King. 'I do trust you. Of course…just…' He reached over and clasped Thranduil's hand and he said softly, 'I could not bear it if something happened. And Thalos and Legolas…I could not bear the grief all over again.'

'Ah, Laersul. My heart,' for so he called all his sons, 'I would not willingly put you through one heartbeat of pain…but this called for the King's word. I am sorry I have grieved you my dear, but it was for the greater good.' He squeezed Laersul's hand back. 'Now…This calls for Dorwinion I think.'

He rose to summon Galion but opening the door of his study, he found Galion already there with a wide tray. Upon the tray was a jug of new wine, and three plates and a pie dish. He tried not to grimace at Galion's cheerful, expectant face.

'I have brought you more wine,' Galion said. 'Dorwinion of course. I know you like to drink that with my rabbit pie. You must be hungry, Laersul. There's plenty here. Legolas and Anglach ate most of everything else before they went out but they insisted I keep back my rabbit pie for the King.' He beamed and let the edge of the heavy tray clatter onto the table where Thranduil's maps were curled up on themselves. 'We did not know you were coming of course, Laersul, or I am sure they would have stayed in.'

'Legolas is here too?' Laersul's blazing smile lit up his face at the thought of his youngest brother's company. 'I have not seen him for months.' He turned to Thranduil and said with pride, 'You know he made the highest tally for Orcs and Spiders this year. He has won the Arrow.'

Galion humphed and cast a sidelong glance at Thranduil. 'He is reckless beyond reason.' Carelessly, he shoved the carved bowl from Menegroth out of the way with his elbow and pushed the tray more securely onto the table. Knives and forks clattered onto the map and smudged one of Thranduil's carefully drawn lines. Thranduil sucked in a breath but Galion ignored him, tutting irritably. 'What have you done with those clips I had made for you to keep your maps in place?' He ran his hand around the edge of the ancient and delicate bowl. 'Ah here they are.' He fished out three of the four elegant silver clips and delved again for the fourth. 'Legolas said that rabbit pie was the King's favourite and when I disagreed he said you didn't like to ask for it because you are concerned that I should not overwork.' He snorted and slid the elegant silver clasps over the sides of the map and the table so the map spread out flat. The smudge had gone and the map was held perfectly in place. 'That has never stopped you from making me work too hard before, Thranduil. But Legolas was most insistent that you would want the pie for yourself. He made you sound quite greedy!' Galion said a little indignantly. He snagged Thranduil's glass and drained what was left, set it back onto the map.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes and silently plotted revenge upon Legolas. He would have to eat the pie now if he did not want to hurt Galion. Which he did not. Not right now anyway, he admitted.

'Anglach is pursuing that sweet daughter of Romiscil. Legolas is his sidekick and has promised to make Anglach look good.' Galion dug a serving spoon into the hardened crust of the pastry, grunting as he did, a spoonful of gloop dropped onto a plate and he thrust it towards Laersul. 'Here…There is plenty more when you have finished that. Although Anglach says he can't help but look good anyway and that it is Legolas who needs help. They are always in my way and under my feet,' he grumbled happily and shoved a plate of greasy meat and hard pastry towards Thranduil, giving him a pleased smile.

'The daughter of Romiscil?' asked Laersul, prodding the pie nervously with his fork. 'If that is Gwileth, Silarôs has been courting her for months. They are as good as bound. Anglach will be wasting his time there though she is very pretty.' Thranduil glanced at Laersul for he rarely commented upon any maiden and Thranduil realised how very little opportunity his son had to court a girl. Thranduil resolved to change that.

'It will not matter,' Galion gossiped happily. 'Anglach enjoys being thwarted in love. He thinks it makes the maidens feel more sorry for him. It doesn't work of course. The pair of them are silly with lust and nowhere to go with it for the maidens are too sensible to do anything more than hold hands with those two.' He pulled a stool from where it was tucked neatly out of the way under the table and shoved it in front of the fire and between Thranduil and Laersul, clearly expecting to stay. 'Those two will be the death of me.'

'Nothing can kill you, Galion,' Laersul said fondly. 'Not even a Dragon I hear.'

Galion looked sharply at Thranduil and before the King could speak, he burst out bitterly, 'You have told him! You could not spare him a few more years of peace!'

Thranduil leapt to his feet, hand thrown out as if he could catch the words before they reached Laersul. 'Be still, Galion! I have not…'

Galion could not pale any further, nor look more horrified and he stared at Thranduil, stricken. But Thranduil reached down and clasped Laersul's shoulder who was looking up at him with a strange expression.

'A few more years of peace? What could you not spare me, father, and yet it seems you have?' Laersul looked up steadily. 'You said you had made a pact with the Dragon that brought us peace…I knew there was more to tell. What is this pact?'

'Forgive me,' Galion cried, unusually penitent. He reached out. 'I am a fool. I speak before I think, before I look to see what is around me. Forgive me.'

'I do not think there is anything I need to forgive you,' Laersul said pointedly, and then leaned back against his chair and raised his calm, steady eyes to his father's. 'I think, my lord, that you had better tell me everything.'

This time there was no mistaking, Thranduil thought wryly. If it had not been so serious, he would have laughed; his oldest son was in charge and he and Galion were as naughty children on a jaunt that had ended in tears.

'Very well,' he said in resignation. 'I will tell you but this you must swear to silence. You cannot even tell Thalos.'

'Especially not Thalos,' Galion added, nodding meaningfully. 'Or to Legolas, Eru forbid! If he knew he would want to be the first to go off down to Erebor! It would be like a picnic to him.'

Thranduil raised his eyes heavenwards. 'Galion!'

'Oops. Sorry. I forget. Just tell him everything and then I can stop worrying. Well… for nine years anyway.'

'Galion! If you are going to witter on like this, go elsewhere!' Thranduil said exasperated.

'I will be silent, I swear,' said Galion, pressing a finger against his lips.

Thranduil rubbed his hand over his face and looked at him, and Galion, realising for once that discretion was the better part of valour, stood and bowed slightly. 'I will leave you to tell him,' he said in some distress. He gave Thranduil a sharp look. 'Make sure you explain everything properly though.'

Laersul smiled slightly at his father and Thranduil poured them wine from the jug. Both looked at the rabbit pie, which looked underdone and burnt at the same time and Laersul began to laugh. He could not help it. 'I do not know what was funnier. Galion blurting everything out, your face or the rabbit pie!' Then he sobered. 'However I am hungry enough to eat anything if you will.'

Thranduil carefully lifted the pastry from his plate and chucked it onto the fire the pastry. 'Not anything. I cannot stomach Galion's pastry. The meat, however, can be rescued.' He spooned up the meat from both plates onto one and left it on the hearth to cook properly. 'I will join you as penance for not telling you all in the manner in which I had hoped.'

'Let us make sure that there is plenty left for Legolas when he returns,' Laersul said with a wry smile. The rabbit was well cooked and tasted not too bad, so much so that Laersul even scooped out more filling from the pie and set it on the hearth.

'You must indeed by hungry,' said Thranduil in concern 'Let me get you something you can eat properly.'

But Laersul shook his head and spooned up the rabbit meat with some enthusiasm. 'You have become soft,' he said with a cheeky smile. 'You have forgotten what it is like in the field. Even though you camped with Galion on your journey, I'll bet you took carefully chosen provisions!' He laughed once and licked his spoon. 'If you do not eat the pastry, this is not half decent,' he said, then turned his blue-grey eyes upon Thranduil. 'Now…Will you tell me me what you agreed to?'

'Very well,' Thranduil said resigned, and he sat for a moment, looking into the fire at the shifting, burning logs. 'You know as well as anyone the destruction Smaug wreaked upon the Mountain. Imagine what he could do to a forest…' He heard Laersul take a deep breath for he too had imagined the carnage Smaug would wreak upon the Wood. 'Smaug troubled me, thoughts of him have plagued my thoughts in the years since he took Erebor,' he said. 'Like you, I knew we could not hold out against him, and with the Shadow in the south, any conspiracy between them would lead to ruin for us. Ever was it Morgoth's desire to see the Elves utterly destroyed, and both the Shadow, I am certain, and Smaug are creatures, if not servants, of Morgoth… A dream came to me. It troubled me often,' he said. 'I did not know what it meant at first until Mithrandir came and we spoke. Then it became clear that I had to go to Erebor. I had to confront the Dragon.' He did not mention the Arkenstone but stared into the fire and watched the red-glowing logs shift and settle, shapes in the hot embers that reminded him over and over of the Dragon…

'I see you were impressed.' A voice brought him out of his reverie. Laersul watched him over his half empty goblet, his grey-blue eyes steady and fearless.

'He is like nothing I have ever seen, or will again.' Thranduil said slowly. But too, he wanted his son to see Smaug, to share in the wonder of the beast. He looked down at his own hands and thought again how his long fingers were like claws, his skin like fine scales.

'Show me,' asked Laersul softly so Thranduil held him in his gaze and because this was Thranduil the greatest Elvenking of Middle Earth, even Gandalf said so, he opened up those memories to Laersul so that he too could see something, sense part at least of what Thranduil had seen…

…One great claw slowly stretched, flexed and stayed spread, the great talons gleamed like scimitars amongst the shifting piles of gold coins. A necklace was caught between Smaug's talons, a lovely delicate string of mithril and emeralds. Thranduil though, barely noticed it for the power and elegance of the Dragon's claw.

The claws had the colour and rich iridescence of pearls, and the scales of the dragon, richer than the gold on which he lay. Within each scale were swirls and patterns that seemed to echo the dragon's shape, discernible one moment and gone the next, lost in the gleam of bronze and gold, copper. In the claw alone, Thranduil found the Song, rare in its power and resonance and suddenly his heart lurched; this was one of the last of the firedrakes, the last great Dragon. He found that he was moved, not only by the power and richness of the Dragon, but by a deep compassion.

'You are one of the last,' Thranduil said slowly. 'Your magnificence is beyond anything I have ever seen.' He found himself wishing he had seen the battles where Dragons had come roaring over the plains, fire scorching the Earth and their great wings whumping down on the wind... He did not think he could have stood his ground as did those First Age warriors - he thought he would have run.

Smaug half-closed his eyes, as if he read Thranduil's thoughts. 'We ruled the Earth.' His voice was a whisper, low, rich. Full of yearning. 'Moringhotto was nothing without us.'

The hoard shifted around him and the mountain of gold cascaded down over his hide and Thranduil saw with astonishment and awe, that Smaug was indeed huge. He realised now that he had only seen the dragon's head, its forearm but now it moved its lithe and sinuous body and what he had thought was gold and jewels was in fact, the Dragon himself. It seemed to keep on coming, its huge wings were folded back, bat-like against its body. The long, narrow head snaked out and reared above him as the dragon emerged, full length indeed, a monster. Gold poured from him, around him. Cascaded over the Dragon's hide, spilling over the ground, pooling at Thranduil's feet.

The eye of the Dragon was multi-facetted, iridescent, shot with a thousand lights, molten fire. He could not look away.

'You have sworn you will not raise bow or blade against me, Thranduil Oropherion. I would have the children of the Wood do the same. Send them. Every ten years. You will have your Peace.'

A nictitating membrane came up, shockingly, the wrong way from a man's, from the bottom up, and Thranduil was released from the Dragon's gaze. A thin wisp of smoke breathed from Smaug for his fires were low and merely smouldered. 'This I swear, on the Flame of Udun, on the Flame of Arnor.' The Dragon bowed its great golden head then and said, 'I swear upon the Secret Fire of Eru.'

Smaug tilted his head and a slow warmth came from him that seemed to bathe Thranduil in light and he felt an unbearable loneliness, a hunger that could not be sated, and something utterly alien. Cold fire. Deep darkness. A far song. He listened...

...Wind under great bat-like wings, soaring high, higher than cloud, higher than the Moon, above the World, seeking the Great Flame beyond the Circles of the World...and falling back, falling back into darkness...

He thought of a moth fluttering round a candle-flame. His was not the gift of Song though and he knew he had not fully understood.

He released Laersul who blinked and then rubbed his eyes with one hand. He sat for a moment and his full mouth, so like his father's, smiled slightly in wonder. 'I begin to see, my lord,' he said softly.

Thranduil lifted a hand and raised the heat in the fire so the embers caught fire again and glowed. 'Smaug is indeed magnificent. Terrifying. Utterly destructive. An absolute threat. But I found myself thinking how the world would be less without him.'

Laersul did not speak but stared into the fire much as Thranduil had and the King knew his son was considering what Thranduil had shown him, He half smiled to himself; Laersul would understand. He did not fear for his oldest; when the time came, Laersul would not be beguiled by the Dragon. He was steel.

'I too wish to see a Dragon before they pass out of memory,' Laersul said. 'And better to see it than fight it,' he added wryly.

''Then you will go?' Thranduil was not sure of he were relived or terrified. 'I will go with you…' he said firmly, and then added loudly and even more firmly in the direction of the closed door, 'Galion will not…And, Galion? Do not think to dissuade me of this'

'Wouldn't dream of it my lord,' came a voice, muffled by being on the other side of the door though the owner was clearly pressed up against it. Thranduil narrowed his eyes, knowing that Galion did not mean it and hoped to change his mind. He would not.

There was sudden noise in the corridor outside and a smattering of feet, then the study door burst open and Legolas and Anglach barged into the study with Galion almost falling in after them so close he was pressed to the door. Legolas threw himself at his oldest brother, deliberately ruffling his braids so Laersul's always immaculate appearance was as dishevelled as his, for he and Anglach, Legolas explained, had returned from their sortie empty-handed and empty hearted, in Anglach's case at least.

'She would not even look at me,' Anglach whined, his brown eyes mournful. Legolas laughed unsympathetically. 'Silarôs was already there.'

'Silarôs has been courting her for months now,' Laersul said sympathetically. 'Your intelligence is very poor indeed if I knew that in the South and you did not know that in the North.'

Anglach threw a look at Legolas who shrugged and said, 'I thought she was unspoken for. She was very flirtatious with me,' he added a little smugly. 'But you are an ugly son of an Orc, Anglach, and so why should she look at you?'

Anglach turned his handsome face away and appealed to Thranduil, unafraid for he had been the closest friend of Legolas since they could walk. 'Do you not think you should send Legolas on some very dangerous mission, a long way from here until I can get myself wed! With him around, no maiden wishes to walk with me.' He cast a look then at Legolas. 'And it is NOT because you are better looking. Indeed your father has cast a spell on your looking glass to fool you into thinking rather better of yourself than you should. It is because you crunch in on your Goblin feet and make them feel awkward by telling them I am hoping to wed them, that I am desperate and love-sick! And if you have not frightened them off already with your goblin-face, saying all that will!'

'Never mind,' Laersul said to them both. 'Galion has saved his rabbit pie for you both. I know you kindly left it for us,' he said quickly before Legolas could get anything else in first, 'but neither father nor I can eat anymore and we know it is indeed your favourite too.'

Thranduil lifted his glass in triumphant salute to Laersul.

'There is plenty for all!' Galion declared happily and brandished a serving spoon at them. 'Now, who's first. Anglach? Hardly a guest but you are the closest we've got. How much do you want?'

'Anlgach loves your pie,' Laersul said serenely. And then before anyone else could interrupt, he added, 'Almost as much as Legolas and I.'

Thranduil stifled a laugh at Legolas' perplexed outrage.

'Of course,' Laersul said, rising gracefully to his feet, ' both father and I have had a good piece of it and,' he patted his flat stomach and smiled at Legolas infuriatingly, 'I am quite full. But you youngsters have such appetites. I don't expect there will be any left for supper tomorrow.'

'Oh no, there will be plenty for you too, Laersul. I have made another pie,' Galion said obliviously.

Legolas grinned at his oldest brother. 'I am sure Laersul is looking forward to it,' he said with feigned innocence.

'I am indeed,' Laersul yawned extravagantly. 'It is unfortunate that I will be dining out tomorrow and then I have to return to the South.'

'So soon?' Legolas asked, all thought of revenge vanished. 'Can you not delay even for one day so we can hunt together? Maybe father would join us?' He turned to Thranduil hopefully and Thranduil felt his heart clench again at the disappointment that was inevitable. 'I have to go on a spider hunt tomorrow and I cannot let Galadhon down. He is relying on me.'

'Maybe I will go with you. I miss the spiders. They are more fun than Orcs,' Laersul said easily and bent down to ruffle Legolas' hair so it was truly mussed as revenge for Legolas' greeting. 'Goodnight Squirt.' Legolas did not even protest at his brothers' nickname for him so pleased he was to see Laersul. Laersul turned then to Anglach and said, 'Anglach, I am pleased to hear the reports that you are doing so well on the marches,' he said as if an aside but Thranduil knew he would have thought about this before he even arrived, and would have a plan to see all the youngsters and find something in them to praise before he left. Anglach was blushing. 'It was in Galadhon's last report. You were mentioned especially.' He turned to Thranduil and leaned over to kiss the top of his father's head. 'Goodnight father.' Anglach was rising to his feet and obviously hoping to walk out with Laersul.

As Laersul turned away, Thranduil noticed that he did not stand quite as straight as he normally did, that there was a slight sag in his son's broad shoulders. He frowned and tried to remember when Laersul had last had leave and could not. He promised himself he would send someone to relieve him as soon as he could. But it was difficult to replace Laersul.

Immediately Legolas draped himself in the chair that Laersul had vacated and drained what was left of Laersul's wine. He often sat with Thranduil in the evenings when he came home. Sometimes he told Thranduil what he had been up to and sometimes he did not; it didn't matter for Galion knew all and told Thranduil sooner or later. But he was languid and quiet tonight after Anglach and Laersul had left, sitting with one long leg over the arm of the chair and one hand draped with unconscious elegance over the back of the chair. He gazed into the fire as if he too saw a Dragon curled on the embers like a bed of gold. His long hair had fallen around his shoulders and his head drooped a little. He was tired, Thranduil realised with a sudden tenderness. It seemed no time at all that Legolas would have curled up in his arms and begged for a story.

Thranduil smiled and rose to his feet, stroked a hand over his youngest son's smooth head.

'You are tired too, my heart. Go to bed.'

'Do you not want company tonight, father?' Legolas asked, yawning widely. He caught a glance from Thranduil and quickly put his hand over his mouth, smothering the yawn. 'Sorry.'

'I like your company very much, Legolas, but you need to sleep and I am wakeful yet.'

'Very well.' Legolas swung his legs back over the arm of the chair and stood up, his long, wheat-pale hair gleamed in the firelight. 'Then as long as you do not stay up all night, I will leave you. Laersul will want to kill more spiders than I tomorrow and I will not let him.' He leaned down and kissed Thranduil's cheek. 'Goodnight father. Remember to go to bed.'

'Give your brother a chance tomorrow,' Thranduil said smiling. 'And be careful, both of you.'

Thranduil heard the door close softly and rested his chin on his steepled fingers and gazed into the fire, wondering. And imagined each of his sons standing where he himself had stood, braving the Dragon, resisting its terrible lure. Laersul would be strong, do what he needed, resist for his mind was strong indeed and his sense of honour and duty was what led him. Legolas would go tomorrow if he could; impatient and ofttimes foolhardy. Too young yet. But one day, he could stand before a Dragon and withstand its lure, be amazed but walk away. Thalos though…Thalos would be as Thranduil and more; he would want to learn, to hear the Dragon speak, to listen to its stories. He would be ensnared as Thranduil had felt himself becoming ensnared. He could never send Thalos.

He had decided. Laersul would go. But not Thalos. Not Legolas, not yet. Maybe not even in twenty years time…There would have to be others. And in his father's heart, the relief of this almost took his breath.

For twenty years, he need say nothing more now that Laersul knew. And in twenty years, though it was a breath for an Elf, much in the world beyond the Wood can happen.

0o0o

One, maybe two more chapters because so many people have reviewed or are following this- it has been such a nice surprise as it was only supposed to be a one shot.

Next chapter is Thranduil. For the adult versions of all my fics, visit Archive of our Own (Ao3) or efiction. (no gaps and put www. in front -ffnet will not show up other websites I'm afraid and will not allow hyperlinks) Next chapter might be a bit more adult.