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Thranduil

He looked upon his son and shook his head to himself. Legolas grew into the role of a responsible and serious leader. Yet he was still untried and inexperienced, viewing the world with innocent faith. It was time to harden him to the realities of life.

"Tell me," Thranduil said, gaining the attention of his son from where he stood by the open window. Sunlight turned Legolas' hair into shining gold. "If you were given the monarchy of this kingdom, how would you reign?"

First he saw surprise on Legolas' face, then disbelief. Rage followed quickly after.

"Do you plan to set sail, father?" Legolas asked stiffly. Thranduil narrowed his eyes at him. He was a gentler father than most, allowing Legolas to question him.

"I do not plan to," he answered. Legolas folded his arms.

"Then I see no reason to think about it," Legolas' tone was terse. He turned his head away and resumed looking out the window.

"But should anything happen to me-" Thranduil pressed. Legolas' reaction was far more explosive than before. He turned around, as a ready as a soldier facing an unpleasant enemy.

"Nothing will happen!" Legolas said angrily. But Thranduil knew better, for beneath the mantle of rage lay the crippling fear of loneliness and abandonment. Thranduil and Legolas had an unwavering relationship.

He got up to his feet fast and reached for his son. Legolas fought at first before giving into his embrace. Thranduil felt his son's hands tremble as he clutched on to his upper arms.

"Hush," Thranduil murmured. "I apologise."

"Why would you even-"

"It was nothing," Thranduil lied, turning in Legolas' embrace to look outside the window.

"Come," Thranduil continued. "I must see to this new prisoner Aragorn brought to me. Gollum, he called the creature."