Epilogue
A month later...
The Fellowship was seated around a campfire, talking about what was probably going on in their homelands.
As Legolas stared into the fire, he did not know that the same thing that was keeping him warm was raging through the city where he had been born and raised.
-:-
Thranduil was seated on his throne, motionless, while the palace burnt around him.
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"Legolas, I don't imagine that the Elvenking would be particularly happy with his son deciding to go back to Mordor," Gimli said. "What do you think he's doing now?"
"I don't know, and to be perfectly honest, I don't care," Legolas snapped, more harshly than he'd intended.
-:-
"Your Highness, we have to leave!" yelled Paradhil as he ran into the throne room. "The city is overrun! We have to get out of here!"
Thranduil remained seated, but raised his head. Paradhil saw tears streaming down his face.
-:-
"Why don't you care? He's your father," Sam asked incredulously.
"King Thranduil is not my father!" Legolas snapped.
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Thranduil finally uttered something. "My son... he hates me. I made so many mistakes with him... and now he's gone..."
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"He relinquished any claim he had to that title when he exiled my sister!"
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"Your Highness, we have to go!" Paradhil screamed, urgently. "Now!"
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"I don't want to see him ever again," Legolas snarled, much to the surprise of the Fellowship.
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Thranduil shook his head, the tear tracks on his face turning orange as they caught the firelight.
"Your Highness!" Paradhil screamed desperately.
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"Legolas, isn't that a little harsh?" Boromir asked. "Whatever mistakes he made, surely you can forgive him for them? I mean, he is your father."
-:-
Thranduil didn't so much as flinch as the doors flew open, and the Witch-King of Angmar came in, followed by two dozen orcs, who instantly split up and ran around the palace. Thranduil didn't so much as blink when the Witch-King grabbed Paradhil by the hair and slit his throat.
-:-
"A father does not sell his son to save his kingdom. A father does not exile his own daughter for the sake of a crown." Legolas snapped. "Thranduil was no father."
An orc threw Thranduil onto the floor. He landed on all fours at the Witch-King's feet.
-:-
"Right now, I couldn't care less if he dropped dead!" Legolas finished, his voice as harsh as the Witch-King's laugh.
-:-
Thranduil could have sworn he heard his son's voice as he stared up into the face of death.
"Oh Legolas..." he sobbed. "I'm so sorry."
Legolas never returned to Mirkwood. Even after the Ring was destroyed, he decided to remain in Ithillien. He never heard about his father's death until he sailed to Valinor with Gimli, and he never returned to see the wreck of the forest that he had once loved. And he never forgave Thranduil, or the advisors who had influenced his father's decision, and even after Sauron's destruction, he never felt that justice had truly been done, because some wounds just run too deep, and damage can't be undone, and the past can't be changed. And revenge doesn't bring peace, revenge doesn't fix everything, revenge doesn't make everything go back to the way it was.
Because even the greatest person can't change the past.
THE END
