(Author's note: Legolas returns to the Caverns to find the Elves have panicked. Thranduil's guests are fleeing Mirkwood, including the Grey Haven Elves. Father and Son finally confront eachother. You will all find out the message at the end in Chapter 8, although if you've read the books (and/or seen the movie) you might be able to guess what it's about. I thank all who take the time to read my story and review it. As always, enjoy! – Rilwen)

-=~**The Prodigal's Son**~=-

Chapter 7

Chaos. The perfect word to describe the state of Legolas' home when he arrived after the orc attack. Elves were running about frantically, transporting injured bodies. Lovers, wives and children were huddled together crying for the dead as Elven guards tried to calm them; and a great effort was underway to reinforce the Great Gates and the doors to Thranduil's Hall. Warriors who had returned alive embraced their awaiting family and others seemed to argue over the smallest thing. Tensions were high, his people were panicking.

Legolas was startled to see some of the arguers were Failon, Firiel and their guard Fingol; the Elves from the Grey Havens. Meliriel was nowhere in sight, and for a moment Legolas feared the worst. Failon stormed over to the Prince as his wife tagged along behind him, having no choice but to let her husband go and make a fool out of himself. The older Elf got so close to Legolas that the Prince could feel his hot breath on his face.

"Is this your idea of making your guests feel welcomed?! You take my daughter for a stroll in the middle of the night, without my permission, and right into an orc attack! This is despicable. I had so much faith in the Elves of Mirkwood, but now I see you have no control over yourselves or your borders! My daughter could have died!"

"Permission was asked where it was rightly due. Let me remind you, Failon, that the number of your years does not outmatch my title and my name in Mirkwood. I rule here, not you. How dare you insult me this way after I risked my life by sending my guards with you in your journey to my Father's Caverns?"

Failon had been outdone. He stared at the Prince, anger raging in his eyes. Firiel grabbed hold of her husband's hand and stepped beside him, bowing to Legolas. When she spoke, Legolas immediately knew where Meliriel had received the soft, beautiful tone of voice.

"Forgive him my lord. Meliriel is our only child and he is quite protective. I understand you had no control over this predicament, and I speak on behalf of my family when I say we respect and admire how quickly the Elves acted in getting their guests to safety."

Legolas took Firiel's hand and kissed it.

"You are welcome, Lady Firiel. "

When he looked around for the missing member of the party, Firiel cut his thoughts short and answered his yet unspoken question.

"Our stay here is ended. Most of your father's guests have been told to leave for their own safety. A large escort group has been assembled to lead them out of Mirkwood. We are going with them."

Legolas' gaze faltered as he realized all hopes of finding a lover in Meliriel were dashed. Perhaps it was for the best…how well could he perform as Prince and defender of Mirkwood if Meliriel's well-being was always in the back of his mind? The realization was blatant; times were too dark to think of things like joy and love. For now, courting and gifts would have to be replaced by war and the bow until Greenwood was restored.

"When do you leave?"

"In two days."

" Then I wish you well. I fear this is our last meeting. My land is in grave danger as are my people, and something must be done. May the graces of the Valar be with you."

The Elves of the Grey Havens bowed to the Prince of Mirkwood and they went their separate ways. That was the last he'd see of the three, and he would not see Meliriel until the caravan of Elves departed from the Great Gates.

"Perhaps one day we will meet again, Legolas."

"Perhaps, my lady. May the light of the Valar shine on your lovely face, and it may it stay ever youthful and beautiful as it will in my mind."

With those words they had parted. They shared no goodbye kiss, nor embrace in farewell; just a longing gaze and a proper bow. Meliriel smiled with tears in her blue eyes.

"Namarie, Legolas Thranduilion."

The scene replayed in his mind as he walked towards his father's room. Legolas quickly pushed every thought but those of war and defense of his land out of his mind. It was time for him to set the King straight, and take his place need be, without crown or staff. Mirkwood would not fall as long as he drew breath in its twisted woods.

§…ˆ¤ˆ…§

"We will tolerate no foul creature within these halls. Gollum will remain our prisoner and be kept in the tree he is currently being held captive in. If orcs come again, let them have him instead of our people."

"Do you not think he would attract more orcs with his bellowing?"

"With the archers posted to guard him, I doubt he would do more than ask for food, my son."

"You underestimate the creature's cunning. Gandalf and Aragorn searched for Gollum for eight years. Years! Not days, Father."

Legolas stood before his father in the King's private chamber. Elvish liquors and a tray of food were at the table beside the King's plush chair, and the King picked at them lazily, an inappropriately calm tone to his voice. Thranduil's golden hair was held back by his jeweled crown, and he didn't seem to regard his son with much respect. With a wave of his hand two scantily clad Elvish maidens approached Thranduil's seat, enjoying himself as they pawed at him. One of the maidens smiled to Legolas, but quickly turned away when that smile was met with a gaze sharp as daggers and an angry scowl on his face. Thranduil paused, the a lazy smile drew up the corners of his lips.

"Do not worry needlessly, my son. We are Elves of the Woodland Realm, skilled hunters who could kill under the shyest moonlight. This thing will not escape us."

"We shot our bows in the shyest of all light tonight, and our skill was more than matched by the number of orcs that fired back. They are too many. If all we had to worry about was Gollum then I would not be so angry."

Thranduil growled and stood from his throne, throwing his cloak back off his shoulders.

"And do you not think I am angry? What do you think my guests will say when they return to their homes. They will laugh and spread foul rumors about us. "

"I am sure they will. But tell me, father, what is the nature of the rumors you believe they will spread? I believe my opinion will be quite different."

Thranduil clenched his fists so tightly the pale skin over his knuckled turned a paler white. Legolas thought his father would strike him at any minute. The king checked his anger and turned away, dismissing the maidens and pacing the room with his chin to his hand.

"What more could we do, my son? All our posts have thrice the guards they did only months ago. We've kept in contact with Lorien and Imladris. Only Elrond's land has escaped these foul days."

Legolas watched his father's every step carefully, wondering where he was going to take this conversation.

"Tell me, Legolas. Who do you believe you are, if you think you can do more for Mirkwood than what has already been done? I see your cold gazes as you watch me enjoy the riches I rightfully own. Are you jealous? Or do you simply not realize that we might as well enjoy whatever days we have left. "

"I would only feel love and concern, not envy, towards the person who helped bring me into this world."

Thranduil tilted his head, he knew Legolas' statement had more than one meaning. The Prince of Mirkwood continued.

"We must fight! Call out to every Elf in every corner of Middle Earth and build an army!"

" Sound words for a not so sound idea. Do you think all the Elves of Middle Earth would leave their lands to come defend ours? Your mind still clings to the glory days of Elven armies. Gil-Galad fell long ago, there are none like him now that may lead us to victory."

"No, my King. The Elves would come together to defend all of Middle-Earth against the Dark Lord…not just Mirkwood itself."

The two noticed a messenger had arrived and had been standing quietly by the door. Thranduil called for him and with no further words Legolas bowed and dismissed himself from the King's room, heading to his own. He could not stand to argue with his father any longer, and he realized it was pointless. He wondered what would be the King's final straw, what would make him spring to action and abandon his jewels for the might bow?

In a fit of frustration he threw his quiver and bow onto his bed, nearly ripping the cloak from his neck as it let it fall to the floor. He approached the mirror in his room and removed his tunic, inspecting the healing wounds and bruises from the orc attacks he had fought in. He was tired and annoyed by his father's behavior. He missed Meliriel, he feared for Gandalf and Aragorn and he feared what was to come; forces of the Dark Lord that would cover all of Middle-Earth in the same shadow that fell over Mirkwood long ago.

With a sigh he cleared his bed of his weapons and stripped, slipping under the covers of the soft mattress. Sleep did not come easily to him, and for awhile he stared at the ceiling of his room. He thought he could hear the marching of orc feet and the wails of Gollum in the tree despite the thick rock walls of Thranduil's Caverns. Legolas tried to close his eyes and think of something pleasant, but all he could see were dead Elven companions lying on the ground, their weapons still in their hands. At some point his troubled mind was blessed with sleep, and for that night he found peace imagining the roaring of the sea.