Getting out of Greenwood was far less difficult than he had thought. To be completely fair he had climbed out his window after refusing visitors. He had left a note saying he was going to Dale. not technically a lie. He was going to stop by Dale to see the captain who had risked his life trying to protect Legolas. And he prayed for forgiveness from those who had died. They had died in vain for more than one reason, of course orcs hardly needed a reason to kill elves or anyone else for that matter. But Legolas had not even been in true danger. Though the idea of his son alone in Mordor did wear on him. He knew Sauron would not hurt Legolas but there was so much he had kept from the prince. He sighed to himself checking his travel pack again, he had brought food for the trip and enough money to buy more until he reached Mordor. But the most important thing he brought was a leather case bound shut that was full of precious papers.

Answers for Legolas, and a reminder of an old flame that had never died within him.

He felt another pang of guilt stab at his heart, he had blamed himself for the darkness that had invaded his kingdom, reasoning that Sauron would not hurt him or his kingdom and to be fair the spiders never threatened the city. The king shook his head slightly as he thought about every choice that had led him here, alone on the forest path, leaving his crown and people behind him, hoping to return with their prince. He wore simple traveling clothes and a black cloak to hide his face. He did not want to be recognized, as difficult as that task would be. He trusted the captain would not give him away. As he made his way to Dale he noticed that the humans along the way were mourning too. They gave him sympathetic looks and stepped out of his way. He wondered if they thought he was a messenger to Bard, informing him of his own death, he had heard the whispers in his own halls, that the king was fading, giving in to his pain and sorrow. He should have presented himself just to prove them wrong. But he had found the idea of mourning his son while he lived to be morbid. It was almost night when he arrived at the healers house in Dale. He was let in without too much fuss when he asked for the Captain and shown to his room. He took a deep breath before entering and shutting the door behind him. "Captain Varne." He greeted before removing his hood. He felt guilty all over again seeing how weak the captain still looked.

"K-king Thranduil." The captain looked terrified at his presence and tried to get up.

"No, please. It is alright." he raised both his hands up. "I have not come to you in anger. Please, may I sit and speak to you, brave Captain?"

"..Of course your majesty." Varne lowered himself back to the bed with a soft groan as Thranduil sat in the chair by the bed.

"You tried to distract the orcs, to give Legolas time… I commend your bravery Captain." He gave the man a small smile and touched his hand.

"... I failed." Varne eyed the clothes Thranduil had on with confusion.

"...it did not work, they were after Legolas... Nothing you could have done would have prevented it… I just wish we could have prevented such loss of life." He sighed and played with his hair that he had bound back into a ponytail. Varne went quiet staring up at the ceiling. He truly looked exhausted and Thranduil suspected he would never recover.

"I am going to sail, I wrote to Lord Elrond to let him know… I will have those who come to get me take me to the sea…. Will you join me, your majesty?" Varne asked after a long silence.

"...No, I will never sail Captain. And...I have somewhere else I must go."

"Yes… I noticed your traveling clothes… Do you not mourn your son? Where must you go without company or your crown?"

Thranduil frowned considering what he should say. If Varne was going to sail he supposed there was no point in lying to him. By the time Elronds men arrived it would be too late to stop him. "I am going to Mordor, Captain." His words had the reaction he had expected. Varne shot up despite his pain to let out a cry of protest.

"Thranduil!"

Before he could say more the door opened, Thranduil turned expecting to see the healer but instead he found King Bard flanked by multiple guards. "Thranduil, Do not fight." Bard warned a stern frown on his face. "You are being detained, You will not risk any of our kingdoms by doing something so foolish."

Thranduil felt rage burn his heart and he stood up. "You will not tell me what I can or cannot do!" He raged, yanking his arm away from the guard who had grabbed it.

"I will, when you come into my Kingdom unannounced. Come quietly. You will wait for Lord Elrond and I will release you to his care." Bard gave Thranduil a softer look, sympathy for him slipping into his gaze. "Please, your people have already lost their queen and prince."

Thranduil looked down but allowed himself to be taken and led away. He was taken to Bards castle and shown to a room. 'Detained, not arrested.' he mused to himself, they had brought his horse and supplies with them and Thranduil asked only for the bound case. He did not want anyone's curiosity to get the better of them. There were more than love letters and the sketches of a baby within. He sighed wondering how exactly he would get out of this one. He supposed that the best option was to convince Bard that he had given up on his quest and would return home. But that he felt would take too long, he had to escape then, steal his horse back and ride faster than they could give chase. Before Elrond came.

Bard sat on his throne rubbing his temples trying to relieve himself from his headache. It had been a week since Thranduil had arrived. And he had been trying to escape since the first day, the night before he had almost succeeded if not for the fact that his horse had been secured. This was not working, he had not known that the elf he adored could cause such stress. He sighed softly as he stroked the thrush he had called for. "Please take a message to king thorin for me. If he is not aware already, tell him that I am currently containing Thranduil who has apparently lost his mind, and that I cannot sufficiently keep him secure. I request that Thorin allow me to keep him in Erebor." The thrush chirped and flew out the window leaving Bard to wait and hope that Thorin liked the idea of seeing thranduil in his dungeons. He loved Thranduil even now as he fought to escape… him. The fact that Thranduil would likely hate him now was painful, but he reasoned it was better than Thranduil being dead. The thrush did not return but as the sun was just starting to set Bard got word that King Thorin had come to Dale. He groaned, cursing his neighbor for not responding but went to welcome him anyways. "I take it you got my message then?"

"I did." Thorin looked unhappy. "What do you mean he lost his mind, I had heard he was in Dale but I assumed he was… seeking comfort from you."

"...The men of Dale have a saying about assuming things." Bard said bluntly. "Come we should talk in private." He turned and headed back to the throne room. If no one knew exactly why Thranduil was here then he would like to keep it that way, people could be cruel, he did not want stories circulating about a mad king, elven or not. "...He intends to go to Mordor." He spoke again once they were in private. Thorin raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Mordor? Why would he possibly want to go there? Does he have reason to believe that is where his sons corpse lies?"

"I don't know, he will not say but he is determined. I have dealt with four very close calls since we took him into custody. I cannot contain him until Elrond arrives and he is still a month out, given he has to travel with an army for safety."

"And you want me to lock him in Erebor's dungeon?"

"I am giving you a free opportunity to lock him in your dungeon." Bard sighed he could tell by the look in Thorins eyes that he was enjoying this.

"I see… Well then I would be a fool to pass it up. When Elrond arrives I will hand Thranduil over to him." he paused and eyed Bard. "What do you think Elrond is going to do?"

Bard looked away, closing his eyes. "...The injured captain spoke of sailing, so did one of Thranduil's council members, Whatever that means...I suspect Elrond will force Thranduil to sail."

"...It means you will never have him Bard." Thorin sighed regarding him with a soft look. "I am sorry… Where is he? I would like to get back before night is fully upon us."

"He is upstairs, my guards will take you to him." Bard said nothing more and left the room.

Thorin tried not to feel happy about doing this. He really did. But locking Thranduil in the bowels of Erebor was a dream of his. "Thranduil." he greeted as he walked into the room without knocking. "You seem to be missing your crown," he commented.

"I am in no mood for banter, king under the mountain." Thranduil muttered he was sitting on a chair staring out a window. He indeed seemed like a cheap imitation of himself. There was no smug pride there. Perhaps Bard was right and the king of the woodland realm had lost his mind.

"Good, I did not come to exchange words. I am here to take you to Erebor to await your cousin."

"..I will pass but thank you for the offer."

"Not an offer, an order. You are a bit of a handful for poor King Bard. Even he realizes that he is too soft on you." Thorin produced a pair of silver cuffs. "Fit for a king don't you think? If you come quietly I won't put them on."

"And deny you the joy of humiliating me? That would be cruel." Thranduil turned around to snap at him, irritation and frustration clear upon his face. "I will not go to your blasted mountain."

Thorin shrugged and nodded to the human guards to restrain the king while he put on the cuffs. They could be easily hidden, no one had to see the Elven king led away in chains, Thranduil struggled cursing them all in his anger. But Thorin found he was less intimidating when he was dressed like a common man. "Come now Thranduil no need to act like a child." He smirked at the scathing look he was given in response. He turned and the guards followed, holding Thranduil firmly.

The elvenking went silent as he was put on the back of a horse, his cloak covering the cuffs from the view of others. His mood did not improve but he seemed to settle on sulking and grumbling under his breath. He fell silent as they reached the gates of Erebor looking up at them with widened eyes. He had not been here since the wedding of Tauriel to one of the Dwarf princes. He barely remembered which one, he had only come to fulfill his duty as a king. And had hoped that Legolas would have come, though now he was glad that he had not. He suspected that Sauron had been waiting for Legolas to travel again. No longer content with watching their son from afar, after he had been chased from Dol Guldur. He looked at the pack he had brought with him. He hoped that the temptation of what was within would be enough of a trade for Legolas' freedom. But even now he doubted Sauron would accept anything less than having them both by his side.

They had discussions, when Sauron had first completed and given out the rings, when he had admitted the truth of who he was. Thranduil had not been taken by the offer to be the Dark Lords consort, he had been a prince, a future king in his own right. He wondered back then if he should have told the truth, but his heart had stayed his tongue, He had fought alongside Elves and men, watched as his beloved was cut down, knowing that it was not held against him.

His mind drifted to his bag again and the other item it held within, an amulet, not particularly magic itself. But one he had taken from the battle after Sauron fell. A silly trinket he held onto, as he held onto his first love, A love his wife had thought to extinguish when she had learned that his heart did not fully belong to her. He had loved her as well, but not enough to give up on Sauron. And she had loved him, but not enough to love Legolas. She had sailed, quietly, slipping away after a battle as they had planned, And the story they had come up with together, that she had been taken by orcs, tortured, and killed had been believed by all. He had mourned her in truth, because he missed her and loved her. The pain was real. And the fear he knew Elrond would force him to sail if he remained, how could he? Surely everyone knew the truth of Legolas there. Rivaldis had made it clear that she would tell everyone what Legolas was. His son would never be permitted in the undying lands, and he would cast himself into the abyss rather than leave his son alone in this world. His despair must have shown as Thorin addressed him again.

"Some of your people are here. I will send them to see you after you are settled." The king under the mountain said, perhaps trying to soothe him.

"I do not wish to see them." Thranduil replied he knew they would be upset that he would not mourn and he did not need them spreading rumors that he had lost his mind as well.

"Well, if you change your mind… even Tauriel will mourn with you." The dwarf king went silent again as they entered the mountain.

The cell he was shown to was fine though he was irritated that his pack had been taken from him. The cell itself appeared to have been hastily prepared for his arrival, and beside the bed there was also a desk and chair. He sat on the edge of the bed and glared at Thorin who had ditched his royal wears as well. Two crownless kings separated by bars.

"Thranduil, I know how much pain you must be in. I am not unsympathetic to the death of Legolas." Thorin finally spoke running a hand through his own hair in frustration. "But letting this madness consume you will do no one any good."

"I do not want any sympathy… My son lives." Thranduil finally spat.

"For how long?" Another softer voice spoke as the hobbit, Thorins husband and consort approached, he had brought food down with him. "Forgive me for being blunt, but even if your son is alive, what hope does he have for survival?" He handed the food to Thranduil after Thorin had opened the door. Thranduil accepted only because he had no quarrel with the clever hobbit. He was actually rather fond of him, not that he would ever admit it.

"..I have my reasons." Thranduil sighed and sat back down. "...Please, I do not wish to discuss this more."

"...Very well, I can wait." Thorin replied, turning away before pausing and looking back. "What is one hundred years in the life of an elf after all."

Thranduil laughed softly as Thorin left, taking his now annoyed consort with him. He would have to congratulate Thorin on the word play the next time they spoke.