Authors note: I do not own anything remotely related to the works of J. R. R. Tolkien. I used an online translator for the elvish sentences in this one-shot, and English translations are at the bottom of this one-shot. I know that it's probably not a perfectly accurate translation, but it's the best I could find. Please comment if you know of any that are super precise! Thanks for reading, please enjoy.
Legolas felt anger and disgust fill him as the orcs sped past him through the undergrowths. But he also felt fear. Those emotions warred within him as he struggled to remain in the moment, listening carefully for the orders of the troop captain whilst remaining hidden in the bushes. "Gar- cín naur." Tueriel said under her breath. Legolas' anger spiked at the command to hold his fire, to wait like a frightened child amidst the brush and bush. These were the orcs that had killed his mother. These were the orcs who had taken away the light of the kingdom. These were the vile creatures that had turned his father and brothers from him. It was his fault that his mother had died. If he had been more careful, if he had been watching closer, if he had been more aware. If, if, if. But Legolas was done feeling like the victim, he was going to destroy these orcs, even if it killed him. Tueriel saw that he was preparing to spring from his place of hiding. "Ceri- ú- move! Stay where you are, Legolas!" She hissed at him. Legolas ignored her, and with a cry, he leapt from the bushes and swung his sword at the orc closest to him. But the orc was larger, faster than him, and before he knew what had happened, Legolas was on his back, his sword kicked from his hand. Legolas sat in silent horror, his mouth opened in a silent scream as he watched the orc move to strike him with a killing blow, watching the event happen almost as if it were occuring in slow motion. But then Tueriel stepped in front of him, dealing a fatal stab to the orcs chest before another elf from their troop shot an arrow through the monster's heart. And then time sped up again, and Tueriel turned to him, anger lining her face. "What were you thinking, Legolas? You could have gotten us all killed! Stupid, foolish elf!" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. "Are cin eithel?" She asked. "Im am eithel." He replied with a sigh, refusing to make eye contact with her. She growled in frustration, then turned to another guard. "Did we kill them all?" "Yes, they were slowed down by another troop coming this way on their normal route. They are going back to report their findings to Thranduil. They ask if you would like for them to take Legolas." He said. Tueriel thought for a moment before motioning for Legolas to stand. "Go with them Legolas. Cin baur na post." She told him. Legolas sighed, but obeyed her, knowing that if he tried to stand up to her, she would make him go back anyways. "Post at bar. A trui speaking na cín adar. Ho does ú- blame cin." Legolas did not answer her when she said that. It took the troop several hours to travel back to the halls of his father, and as they drew closer, a knot began to form in Legolas' stomach, a mixture of fear and frustration. When they arrived, Legolas was pulled along with the group against his wishes, and when they came into the throne room, he tried to make an escape again, but his father called out to him. He was facing away, so he allowed himself to cringe but then turned to face Thranduil as the king of Mirkwood approached him. With just a wave of his hand, Thranduil sent the rest of the troop away, and he stood silently, alone with his son. "How are you? Are cin eithel, nin réd?" Thranduil asked. "I am fine" Legolas bit out. Thranduil sighed deeply. "We cannot go on like this, Legolas! I know that you are grieving, but so am I, as well as your brothers. When was the last time you even spoke to them? Tye behave ve if tye feuime- tien!" Thranduil said, obviously upset. "What else am I supposed to do? They all blame me! Ha was nin fault i naneth died! Ha should gar- been nin!" Legolas screamed at his father before sobbing violently, his whole body shaking with tremors, his mask of false bravado cracking and splintering to reveal a broken child within himself. Thranduil gathered Legolas into his arms, weeping silently over his son, realizing only now the self-inflicted pain that his son had been in all this time. "Your mother loved you more than life itself. She knew what she was doing when she took that arrow in your stead." He whispered into his son's hair, holding his youngest child close. "If only I had been faster, if only only I had realized sooner, ada!" Legolas cried. "No, do not think like that, Legolas. We cannot blame ourselves for things outside of our control!" Thranduil vehemently told him. It was then that Thranduil's two older children entered the room. "Father?" The older one asked, sounding concerned. Thranduil did not respond, but held out an arm, inviting his other two sons to join him and Legolas. They did so gladly, and a few tears were shed on their part as well. They spent much time like that, holding each other, and allowing themselves to finally find healing in the midst of their pain. Although it wasn't all better, at least now they were on the road to once again becoming a family, one that was united rather than divided by their grief.
Translations:
Gar- cín naur. = Hold your fire
Ceri- ú- move! = Do not move!
Post at bar. A trui speaking na cín adar. Ho does ú- blame cin. = Rest at home. And tryspeaking to your father, he does not blame you.
Are cin eithel, nin réd? = Are you well, my son?
Tye behave ve if tye feuime- tien! = You behave as if you hate them!
Ha was nin fault i naneth died! Ha should gar- been nin! = It was my fault that mother died! Itshould have been me!