A weary smile
brightened Thranduil's features when he saw his sons ride safe through the
gates. "Näurolas! Legolas! You are safe then," but the King's heart sank at the
missing horse.
"Lagortâl was shot, father," Legolas bowed his head sadly. Lagortâl was not
been his steed, but he was a beloved beast, indeed. "It seems the rumors I have
heard are true, father. Orcs were on the borders of our forest," Legolas
straightened his shoulders, and acted as regal as she could. Both Näurolas and
Thranduil looked to the young elf and their eyes sparkled at his attempt.
"Araîel," Thranduil's regal gaze moved to his beloved daughter, and she looked
at him in return. "Bring Legolas to his chambers. Be sure my son is unharmed. I
must speak with Näurolas. He has missed much, if tidings have not passed
through Imladris. Come, Näurolas!"
Thranduil turned on his heel, with his eldest son trailing behind him. Soon
they were in the King's private quarters, and all was silent for a while. After
a few moments, the King reached out and embraced Näurolas. "I have missed you,
my son," he whispered, pulling back from the warm embrace and smiling.
"You seem weary, father," Näurolas' voice was troubled.
"Aye."
"Legolas does not know what orcs are?" Näurolas asked, raising an eyebrow. He
wished to dive straight to the point. Although he would normally find his young
ignorance quite amusing, he felt this was a serious matter.
"He does, but had never laid eyes upon one." Thranduil sighed. "It was my
fondest wish that he never would. Alas! I can hold the gates with ease, but
with this… shadow, it becomes more and more taxing to hold the borders. If your
mother were still here…" Thranduil's voice grew soft, and he looked sadly
towards his son, and Näurolas caught a strange flash of anger before it swiftly
disappeared.
"So this shadow, as you call it, troubles even you?" Näurolas raised an eyebrow
and eyed his father closely as yet another flash of anger troubled his gaze.
This time the emotion caused a slight shudder to coarse through the King.
"Yes, of course it does! Why would it not!? I am the one who must protect my
people!" Thranduil yelled. Näurolas frowned and locked eyes with his father.
His gaze penetrated and probed the King for an answer to his sudden outburst.
Something was definitely wrong! He could easily sense that the darkness both he
and Legolas had hinted to was creeping through his father's mind. The air was
thick with tension when Näurolas finally broke his probing stare and looked to
the floor.
"How much does he know?" Näurolas asked, and he heard the king sigh.
"He knows tales and stories of Orcs, nothing more. Why?" Thranduil asked suspiciously.
"This is far from a merry welcome, father, though I admit freely that it was I
who steered our speech thus. Ten years it has been since I've seen you, and
already you have treated simple questions with disdain," Näurolas was clearly
hurt and Thranduil softened his stance in defeat. "Lord Elrond has taught me
much, and I have improved many skills. I do not think that before I left I
would have been able to hold your gaze for so long, and read so much."
"What did you see?" Thranduil almost looked afraid.
"This shadow affects you as much as the forest. You look to me now as one who
has learned that a coveted secret has been stolen from his mind. Father, do not
look at me so! For I read no words from you, only a fear and darkness. This
troubles me!" Näurolas could not find respectful words to say. For though
Thranduil was beloved to him, he was also his King.
"It is something I can control, Näurolas. You are young, compared to me. I have
seen many things and dealt with much grief. This shadow from the south is far
less than some of the things I have known! If you fear for me, fear not. And if
you suspect me, suspect not. It is a battle I shall easily win," Thranduil
said, in defense of himself.
"You need not worry then, father," Näurolas placed a hand on his father's
shoulder reassuringly. "I suspected nothing. But I fear still, for I have never
seen you troubled so, and I will not see my father, or my king fall!"
Thranduil smiled and clasped the arm upon his shoulder. "Go now to your brother
and sister. Araîel has missed you overmuch, I should think, and Legolas… to him
you are perhaps more great and wise than I! Ten years I have dealt with him
speaking of 'the greatness of Näurolas, heir to the throne, and my brother!'"
Thranduil laughed at the furious change of color in Näurolas' cheeks, releasing
his son from his gentle grip.
"Yes, I will go to them. Araîel has proved her strength in watching Legolas in
my stead, and I shall gladly relieve her." Näurolas quipped, and father and son
shared a merry laugh.
"There will come a day, indeed, when Legolas' gifts shall be used for things
far greater than defending these woods. Näurolas," Thranduil looked upon his
son carefully for a moment, "Teach him well of the tales of battle and darkness
you learned from the Lord Elrond. For I feel in my heart he will someday have
great need for the knowledge of the past!" and with that, Thranduil bid
Näurolas leave him, and with many thoughts racing through his mind, he obeyed
his father, walking the familiar steps towards Legolas' chambers.
