Legolas' light step sounded faintly in the cool daytime hush of the Hall of Fire. Elrond was standing by the window and he turned towards Legolas as he entered, the soft glow from the hearth illuminating his face.
"I know why it is you have come," he said. "You come to ask me if you really are the son of Thranduil of Mirkwood. You are."
"Then why has he never said so?" said Legolas, angrily.
"I believe he thought you would be happier as you are," said Elrond. "Tell me, do you not prefer your Woodland life to this?"
"Yes," said Legolas, "but…"
"And you would not prefer to be raised above your comrades?"
Legolas thought of Eryn and, strangely enough, of young Estel.
"No," he said, softly. "But does he not love me?" he said, looking up at Elrond, his blue eyes quivering. "My mother was warm and tender but the Elvenking is so – cold."
"The Elvenking has known many sorrows during his long years," said Elrond, "as have we all. But I think I would be right in saying that he loves his Woodland People very dearly, and you most of all."
Legolas turned away from Elrond for some time. Then he said, quietly, "I want to go back."
"Two more nights," said Elrond. "For Estel's sake."
Legolas was riding back to the Woodland Realm alone. He had convinced Elrond that he could remember the way, and now he was once again under the dark eaves of Mirkwood. In spite of Elrond's words, he still felt angry with Thranduil, and he still felt confused that no explanation had been given as to why he had been in Rivendell in the first place.
Suddenly, the horse reared and whinnied. Legolas leaped clear and glanced around him. The horse was right. Some evil thing was fast approaching. Legolas tried to comfort the frightened animal with soft words but it turned and bolted into the trees. He spun round. There, scuttling towards him on its hideously barbed legs was a giant Spider. Swiftly, he drew out an arrow and fired. One of its eyes went blind. The Spider let out a shrill cry and hurtled towards him at great speed. It was too close a range for shooting now. Legolas pulled out his knife. The Spider was on top of him. He thrust upward, trying to penetrate the Spider's soft underside, while the Spider strove to find an inlet for its poisonous fangs. Legolas held on grimly and closed his eyes.
Suddenly, a bow sang. Then there was a whiz and a thud, and an Elven spear pierced the Spider's hide, skewering it to the ground. It raised its head, looking round with its seven eyes. Legolas stabbed upwards. The Spider's filthy entrails spilled out onto the forest floor.
Legolas crawled clear of the carnage and looked up. There, standing across the grove, bow in hand, was the Elvenking. Each gazed at the other in silence, as if seeing themselves for the first time: the same eyes, the same golden hair, the same long, pale fingers grasping the bow. Then Thranduil walked softly across the leaf carpet and laid a hand on his son's shoulder.
"I thought I had lost you," he said. "And then when would I have spoken, my son? Forgive my silence. I thought it was for the best."
Legolas thought again of the words of Elrond, and of his Woodland life, of Estel and Eryn and his mother.
"It was for the best," he said. "I am a Wood-Elf and I wish for no other life. I only have one request: that I might visit Rivendell again in the future."
"Granted," said Thranduil, with a rare smile. "Now, come, Eryn is waiting for you."
And they walked together into the forest.
Glorfindel and Elrond stood side by side in the Hall of Fire.
"So, what do you think now?" asked Glorfindel. "Is he destined for greatness?"
Elrond gazed into the fire and, slowly, in his mind's eye, a picture unfolded. A group of companions was walking through the wilderness, one race by the side of another. Legolas was with them, and also Estel, now a grown man and worn with care. Elrond felt a sense of foreboding, of a great darkness and a terrible power. But he also felt a deep sense of loyalty, of friendship which no power, however strong, could undo. He turned back to Glorfindel.
"Yes," he said. "I believe he is."
The End.