Chapter 9
Disclaimer
Uh oh. I just realized, that just like all my other stories, this is going to spin off of the original idea and into something almost entirely different. Go me… unless that's ok?
Actually, the next chapter will be the last. I just thought of a good ending. Yay!
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The trip to Mirkwood was uneventful. Legolas was forced to ride on the same horse as Thranduil since he couldn't ride the horse alone. They traveled as much as possible and got back to Mirkwood in three days. When they arrived home, the elves of Mirkwood cheered for them. Thranduil smiled and waved at them, but Legolas just sat there, his eyes cast down at the horse's main. His eyes carried a sadness that none of the elves could even begin to comprehend.
They finally got to the palace and Legolas was taken down from the horse and was helped into his room in the palace by Thranduil. He stayed in his bed for four days, doing nothing but reading, sleeping, and staring blankly at the wall. Thranduil thought that Legolas would get better, but so far, he didn't seem to be improving much. Finally, Thranduil decided to talk to him. He went to Legolas's door and knocked. No sound. He opened it a little and saw Legolas sitting on his bed, a book in his hands. Legolas had not noticed that Thranduil opened the door. He quickly took advantage of this time to look over his son. He still had bandages on him, and the cut on his face was healing, but he would have a scar there for a long time. He wore only loose leggings, allowing the gentle breeze coming through the window to touch him. He looked peaceful, but in his eyes, there was something Thranduil could not understand. It was sadness. Why? He was alive, he was home, what more was there. He supposed that Legolas was just depressed that he did not get to go to Mordor like he was supposed to. Thranduil sighed.
Legolas noticed that. He looked up and saw his father standing in the doorway. He said nothing but made a small motion for him to come in. He did, and shut the door behind him. Thranduil sat down on the bed beside Legolas. "Legolas, I want to know what's wrong. You don't seem happy. You know that I love you and you can trust me. Please tell, so that I may do whatever I can to help." Thranduil pleaded with him. Legolas's eyes lowered to the book that was in his hands. He had no desire to say anything at all. He then turned his attention to the window and looked out at the trees. Thranduil followed his gaze. Did he want to be outside. "Legolas? Do you want me to take you to the gardens?" Thranduil asked. Legolas shook his head no. Thranduil sighed. "Please Legolas." Still Legolas made no sound. Thranduil rose and walked out of the room, shutting the door gently.
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Though Legolas would not speak, his mind was racing. True, he wished with his heart he could have gone with the Fellowship, but that wasn't why he was so sad. When he was an elfling, he was reckless, loud, and never paid any attention to the little things. The reason he was sitting there now, and the reason that another elf's ashes were blowing in the wind somewhere was because he never paid attention to the little things. A young elf who only wanted a friend or two. Legolas, and the twins didn't pay attention to Kathios. They could have stopped him from being the way he was. They might have had a lot of fun with him while Legolas was there. If only he had known. But he didn't because it had slipped past his vision. Elf eyes were known for their ability to see long distances, but sometimes, they missed what was right in front of him.
Legolas moved to the edge of his bed. Bracing his hands on the edge, he lifted himself up, despite the pain rushing through his arm and ribs. He was finally in a standing position, and he slowly walked to his desk. Sitting in a drawer was some parchment and a charcoal pencil. He picked those up and shuffled back to his bed. When he was finally back into his bed, he rested for a little bit, letting the pain go away from walking. When it had gone away enough to tolerate it, he picked up the parchment and started drawing. It was a picture of the dinner the night that he had arrived. The picture was from Legolas's point of view. It showed Kathios walking away from the table sadly, and Elladan and Elrohir laughing. When he was finished, he looked at the picture. It brought tears to his eyes. He hated the feeling of regret. For an elf, they will not die naturally and no longer remember the reason for regret. Legolas sighed and set the parchment aside and picked up another one. This time he drew a picture of how it could have been with him, Elladan, Elrohir and Kathios. Underneath the picture he wrote, 'Forgive Me' in beautiful elvish script. When he was finished with that one, he sunk back into his pillows and fell asleep, the picture resting under his hand on his lap.
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Thranduil came in a few hours later to see if Legolas was ready to eat something. When he went into the room, he saw the parchment and the charcoal pencil. He walked closer and picked up the first picture Legolas had drawn. Then, he saw the one under his hand. He carefully pulled the picture out and looked at it. He recognized Legolas and the twins, but who was the other one, and why did he write 'forgive me' on the bottom of it. Thranduil set the papers aside and started to turn. Before he left the room, he heard Legolas stir in his bed. Legolas had woken up. "Ah. Legolas. Would you like to eat something?" Thranduil asked. Legolas made no sound except a slight nod. Thranduil smiled and left the room.
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Three months had passed. Legolas was able to walk on his own, and his wounds were healing, but the scars would last for a long time yet. He had still not spoken a word, but had drawn about one hundred pictures of Elladan, Elrohir, Kathios and himself. Thranduil was slightly disturbed by all the pictures, but some of the elf maidens in the palace told him it was just Legolas's way of expressing himself.
One afternoon after Midday, Legolas was out in the forest. The trees were starting to wake up again. Sunlight was breaking through their thick branches and leaves. It was starting to look like the forest he saw when he was unconscious. He smiled. It was beautiful. The sun felt good on his skin.
As he walked, he absent-mindedly rubbed at the scar on his arm. He still felt bad that his childish behavior was the cause of the death of an elf. Drawing his pictures seemed to take some of that away.
His father had eventually caught on that the other elf was Kathios. One evening, Thranduil had asked Legolas why he was drawing pictures with him in them as friend with him. Legolas shook his head. Then Thranduil wanted to know why Legolas did not hate him. Legolas paused, and he walked away. He didn't know at the time why he didn't hate Kathios, but now he knew. Although the elf had nearly killed him, he actually changed Legolas for the better. Legolas was always reckless. He always tended to pass by the unimportant things that he didn't think he needed to care about. But now, his eyes took in everything. He noticed every leaf, every flower, every animal. Without speaking, he couldn't tell people what he was thinking, and it gave him more time to listen to others. He knew inside that his decision to stop talking was better, except that his Ada was sad that he wouldn't talk. Thranduil wanted to know what was going on in his head. But Legolas expressed himself through his drawings, and Legolas understood them, and that's all that really mattered.
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Yes, short I know. But the next chapter will probably be short as well, but I know how it's gonna go. Review!
Peace In~
Banana Nut Muffin
