Disclaimer: See chapter 1, please! Basically it says I own nothing. :)

Father and Son – Chapter 3

When Legolas finally arrived at the great gate, he stopped, catching his breath. Then he rushed on, passing Mithrandir and Elrond and his father's counsellors in the great hall, ignoring them completely much to their surprise, desperately calling for his father. They all exchanged puzzled looks and decided it would probably better to follow the young one. Just in case.

"Ada!" He rushed through the corridors heading towards his father's chamber still calling for him excitedly. He tried to open the door to his father's bedroom but it was locked.

"Ada! Ada!" The door was never locked, why now? His Ada just must be in there!

"Ada!" He hardly could breath anymore.

"Prince Legolas, your Highness, what has happened?" One of the counsellors kneeled down next to him.

"I shot it!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Shot what?"

"The bush… the… the leaf! Sel showed me!"

"Oh!" Of course the older elf did not understand what the prince was talking about.

"Ada!" Legolas called again, rattling at the door.

"Hush, little one, your father is taking a well-deserved rest. Come with me." He took Legolas' hand and tried to pull him away from the king's chamber.

"No, I must tell him." Legolas rattled at the door again with his free hand, but of course it was still locked.

"Ada!" He cried. He really wanted to talk to his father now!

"Stop this, Legolas. Your father needs to rest! Come on, Mithrandir and Lord Elrond are waiting for you. Let us go to them now." The counsellor shot Lord Elrond an apologetic look and tightened his grip on Legolas wrist to finally drag him away from the door. But the elfling jerked himself free.

"No, I want Ada!" He said, shooting the older elf a heartbreaking pleading look. He really, really wanted to talk to his father now!

"Hush now, come on. He is fast asleep now, little one, he cannot hear you anymore." The elf tried to explain calmly, smiling reassuringly. But Legolas just stood there, suddenly very pale, breathing heavily and looking awfully lost. He had heard this sentence before, but where? Where? Oh, he knew, he remembered! Oh no, it could not be! Not his father! Not his beloved Ada, too. No!

"NO! ADA!" He dashed back to the door, slamming his small fists against the wood, trying to open the door, again and again and again, rattling it madly. "ADA! ADA!" Tears were streaming down his face. He was all of a tremble, sobbing almost hysterically.

Lord Elrond was stunned by the sudden change from rather excited to purely horrified, but when he met Gandalf's concerned look he suddenly remembered, too! Oh no, he could not really have said this! That fool of a counsellor had just said that sentence again! That terrible sentence, everyone kept telling Legolas when he desperately had tried to get into his dead mother's chamber a year ago. Now he must have thought his father was dead, too!

Elrond rushed forward, kneeling down behind Legolas, turned him around and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Shsh, everything is alright…Your Ada is alright…" He comforted, rocking forth and back, stroking Legolas' long blond hair and the tiny braids above his pointed ears.

"Ada, Ada…" the small elfling sobbed out, crying hard on Elrond's shoulder. Then suddenly – finally! – the door behind him opened. He whirled around and hugged his father's leg as tightly as he could.

"What? My little squir-…" Thranduil stopped, realizing everyone was watching. "Legolas?" He looked down on his sobbing little son desperately clinging to his legs. He met Lord Elrond's look with questioning and tired eyes, still half asleep. Finally he crouched down, lifted his son up on his arms and pressed him tightly against his own chest when he felt the small arms tighten around his neck and the little wet cheek on his own skin.

"My King, I am so sorry. My Lord, I am afraid… somehow I must have scared him…" the unhappy counsellor tried to explain.

But the king was too sleepy and too worried to think about a proper reply. He only wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep, sleep, sleep… forever. He felt so tired and burned out.

"My friend, you should get back to bed, now. I think, your little one here could make good use of some rest as well. It has been quite an exciting day for him, I assume." Lord Elrond said, gently pushing the king back into his bedroom, closing the door behind himself.

He laid one arm around the king's shoulders and gently led him back to the large bed.

"I thank you, mellon nin. But what has happened?" Thranduil still did not understand what was going on. He removed the little quiver and bow from Legolas' back and put it down on the floor, his left arm still firmly wrapped around the little elfling he was holding. Then he lay down on the bed, gently pulling Legolas up to his own pillow.

"I will explain later. Basically he got your counsellor wrong and must have thought you were dead not only resting." Lord Elrond sighed. "Now, just try to get some sleep. You truly need it. And Legolas needs it as well. Just look…" He implied with his head towards the child, who had already fallen asleep, with closed eyes, in his father's arms, sucking on his right thumb, his cheeks still wet with tears.

"Ai, Elbereth! He has not done that for almost six months now." Thranduil noticed with concern, pressing Legolas' small body to himself. "My little squirrel…" He whispered, almost inaudible even to himself, leaning his cheek against the top of his son's head. Lord Elrond pulled a blanket over the two elves as if Thranduil was a mere child as well.

"I will return to you later, if you would want me do so? And maybe it would be wise to have dinner here? Mayhap only you, Legolas, Mithrandir and I? I am sure we can cheer him up a little?" He offered, smiling softly. He knew exactly how Thranduil felt. He had three children, who were by now grown up, each of them already much over 2.000 years old. He knew how exhausting fatherhood could be. Thranduil nodded gratefully. He was asleep again within minutes only…

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Two hours later Legolas stirred and blinked, focussing his drowsy vision as he woke. He looked up and found Thranduil's face. His father was lying on his back, still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his eyes open but with an unfocused gaze. Cautiously Legolas robbed a bit closer to him. He leaned down and gave him a big, wet kiss on the lips, stroking his cheek gently with his tiny right hand. Thranduil started, slowly refocusing his sleepy gaze, wondering what had awoken him. Then he recognized his son leaning over him, smiling a little.

"Hello, my little squir-… my son." He whispered softly taking Legolas right hand in his own, squeezing it briefly. Legolas hugged him tightly, leaning his head heavily on his father's big, strong shoulder. Thranduil sighed, soothingly patting his son's head and back.

It felt good holding and caressing each other. He remembered how much he had longed for his father, Oropher, to give him at least a little gentleness, when he was a child, but Oropher seldom did, too seldom, close to never. Thranduil had not realized he was doing the same to his son until Legolas' mother had scolded him for being so restrained. When Legolas then had come to him for the first time seeking some comfort in his arms, he went rigid, awfully insecure about how to react. But Legolas was so warm-hearted and gentle, in the end it was not hard at all to return his caresses. Amazing, how such a small elfling could teach him some things. He remembered his wife's soft and warm smile and her shiny eyes whenever she caught him cuddling their son.

But Thranduil could never make the first step. It was too hard for him. And even though he sometimes wanted to scream out loud and tell all Arda how much he loved his son, he never could say it. He relied on his son to know instinctively how much he cared for him, but deep inside he knew that that simply was not enough. He felt guilty sometimes, but it was so much easier to cast this feeling aside and go on with his work loaded life than to admit his mistake and change his ways. He had been taught that showing emotions was nothing but showing weakness and he had lived that knowledge for far too long to change it. He could not change it, not even for his own child's sake. Maybe it was because for an elf he was an old father. That was what his wife always suggested when they talked about his inability to show emotions towards his son without Legolas making the first step. Thranduil was of the same age as Lord Elrond, almost six thousand years old now. But unlike Elrond, whose twins and daughter were born when he was well in his mid three-thousands, Thranduil had already seen more than 5.950 winters when Legolas was born.

But that was not the only reason. Not anymore. The fact that Legolas resembled his mother so much hurt Thranduil. When she had still been with them, he had been proud and glad that Legolas had inherited her looks. But now whenever he looked at his child he saw her, and his heart ached so badly every single time he almost could not breathe. His grief was too fresh. He could not bear it. He hoped, no, he knew that someday he would get used to this emptiness in his heart, he would get used to never seeing her, never smelling her, never holding her again. But right now it still hurt too much. In some ways he was afraid of his son. He was afraid of the horrible pain that tightened around his chest when he looked at him. He was well aware that Legolas needed acknowledgement, warmth and love, but he simply could not give it without aching awfully and that hurt him even more. He knew he was weak and that he should be stronger for his child's sake. With concern he realized every day how much his behaviour had already changed his son. When his wife was still with them he was sure Legolas got enough love and gentleness and warmth, even when he was not there for him. But now that she was gone, he lacked it awfully. But still Thranduil could not find the strength to change his ways.

He sighed.

"Are you well? Hungry maybe?" He asked Legolas, simple only to say anything. Legolas looked at him thoughtfully. He nodded slowly. Thranduil got up, offering him a helping hand to get out of the large bed as well.

"Well, then, we should find you something to eat now, should not we?"

"May I have something to drink, too, Ada?" Legolas asked seriously, retrieving his quiver and toy bow from the floor first before he looked up to his father.

"Well, do you not ask for a bit too much now, your Highness?" Thranduil asked, amused, looking down on his child. But as soon as he saw his son's bewildered look he mentally kicked himself. Ai, Elbereth, he is a child, he cannot understand sarcasm yet, can he?

He sighed, but before he could say anything, Legolas tugged on his tunic, protesting.

"But, Ada, I'm thirsty, too, and I have to drink or I will die, you know, Ada, you always tell me that yourself!" Legolas announced dryly, shooting him an incredible triumphant look, buckling his quiver at the same time.

Thranduil was a bit taken aback, to say the least, by his son's self-confident reply and started to laugh.

"Oh, sure, my son, you are right. Forgive me, I forgot." He chuckled, kneeling down, and helped the boy taking on his quiver.

"Come on, let us go to the kitchen then and find you something to eat AND to drink, alright?" He lifted him up on his arms, steadying his son's seat on his left hip. Then they left the room, heading towards the kitchen.

"Ada, I shot a leaf on a bush today. Sel showed me how to do it and I shot it." Legolas said proudly when they were half way down the corridor.

"What leaf, then?"

Legolas sighed impatiently. Was he really so hard to understand or were all adults simply too stupid today? "The leaf on the bush. The yellow leaf on the top." He explained, running his short fingers over his toy bow, removing some dirt.

Thranduil chuckled again as he heard the impatient little sigh. "Oh, well, I might have guessed! Forgive me again, ion nin! How far away was it from you?"

"Almost, uhm, like…" Legolas squirmed on Thranduil's arm looking for something adequate to the distance he had shot the leaf from.

"Please, let me down, Ada." He asked. As soon as his feet were on the ground he started running back and forth the corridor, still looking for an equal to the distance. But it was almost impossible for him as long as his father kept on walking.

"Ada, stop!" He demanded. Thranduil stopped instantly as if he had just received an order from Ilúvatar Himself. He blushed a bit as he felt the presence of someone else nearby, and felt a little embarrassed that someone had witnessed his reaction. He turned around, while his son ran back to his bedroom's door to walk or better said to march the approximate distance of his shot. Lord Elrond and Gandalf approached the two royals, smiling warmly at the king. Thranduil smiled back and turned around again, returning his attention to Legolas.

"Look, Ada, it's been so far." the elfling announced standing only a few steps away from Thranduil and quite a distance away from the bedroom's door.

"Well, that is rather good." Thranduil replied, smiling down on him. "And who held the bow?" He asked, obviously thinking Legolas had simply helped a warrior to draw the bow's string with both his small hands just like he allowed him to do it sometimes when he practiced himself.

"No, I shot it myself." Legolas explained.

"Whit what bow?" Thranduil wondered and crouched down.

"My bow." Legolas was confused. What else?

"Your bow? You mean, your toy bow? But that can not be…" Thranduil doubted, already wondering if his son would really lie to him.

Now Legolas understood what his father might be thinking, and he shot him a very angry glare. Thranduil had never seen him do that and furrowed his brows in return.

"Legolas, you know, lying is a bad thing." He warned.

Lord Elrond and Gandalf gasped in disapproval. They had seen Sel and some of the other warriors returning from the archery ground and had overheard their talk about Legolas' amazingly accurate and strong shot. Why in Arda did Thranduil not believe his son?

Legolas' eyes widened with disappointment. He could not say anything, so he just shook his head.

"Legolas, I do not doubt your skills but…" Thranduil went on.

"You think I can't do that?" That was not really a question, rather a statement, heavy with sadness and disbelief.

"No, Legolas, I do not think you cannot do this. But it is…"

"Why you think I can't do it?" Legolas voice was a bit angrier now.

"Legolas, I said, I do not…" Thranduil started again.

"You think I lie!" His son cried.

"Legolas, would you please stop interrupting me!" Thranduil stood again, very displeased with his son's impolite behaviour.

"You think I lie!" Legolas said again. "I will prove it to you!" He shoved Thranduil out of his way and without second thought started running towards the main door, a both determined and angry look upon his little face. There was no question where he was heading to now.

"Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood! Come back! And NOW!" Thranduil shouted angrily. But Legolas ignored him, which made him even angrier.

"My Lord, should not we follow?" Lord Elrond wondered, staring after Legolas. "He might get himself into some trouble. The sun is already setting down behind the Misty Mountains. It's already getting dark."

"This Mordor brat! What does he think he is doing?!" the king fumed, but that was just his way of showing concern, both Elrond and Gandalf knew.

The three of them followed the prince, but they had already lost sight of him. They heard loud voices at the great gate and rushed down there.

"Prince Legolas, don't! Stay!" One of the guards yelled.

"Guards, stop him!" Thranduil's booming voice echoed through the woods as he saw Legolas slipping through the slowly opening, heavy gate. But his son was faster than the warriors and with incredible agility he jumped on a low branch nearby and took his ways through the trees. He knew none of the guards could follow him through there as he could run on thinner branches while the adult warriors had to run on the stronger ones. Besides, he could run through the trees with instinctive assurance like no second elf. Thranduil had to admit to himself he was still impressed whenever he saw his little son performing such a run as if nothing could be easier than that. My little squirrel, he thought somewhat proudly, but still couldn't help holding his breath every time Legolas jumped from one tree to the next. He always half expected half feared Legolas would miss a branch and crash down to the forest floor. But thank the Valar he never did.

Finally Legolas reached the archery training ground. He ran to the spot where he had shot the leaf from, but of course there was no other yellow leaf so he had to choose another target. Well then, it must be one of the real targets, he thought and strode a few steps to the right, so he was in a straight line with the object on the other site of the field. His father, Lord Elrond, Mithrandir and four warriors – Sel was among them – who had heard Thranduil calling for his son and had followed their king to lend a helping hand if necessary, arrived and stood. Thranduil wanted to run to his son, but to the king's surprise both Lord Elrond and Mithrandir held him back.

"My Lord, let him do this…" Elrond whispered. Thranduil nodded understandingly.

Sel moved silently to the right and some metres forward, so he stood in Legolas' visual field. He knew, Legolas would not want him to help him, but maybe he could give him some confidence and support only through his mere presence. After all, he had taught the elfling how to shoot.

Legolas closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood like Sel had showed him. He opened his eyes again and notched an arrow. He remembered that he had to search a spot a bit above his origin target because his arrow would fly in an arch and not in a straight line. So he did not focus on the bull's eye itself but a point somewhere above it. He focussed only on it. He could see it clearly now even though the sky was already grey and the light somewhat diffuse. He also remembered that when he had shot the leaf his right arm was so tensed that it almost had started to tremble, so he draw the bow even harder. In the corner of his eye he saw Sel nodding almost imperceptibly. Then…

…inhale…

…exhale…

…hold breath…

…and fire!

He let the arrow fly. And even though it was only a toy arrow and not sharp at all, it sunk into the soft cork of the target. Not in the heart of the bull's eye, but still in the upper margin of the red centre spot.

Sel smiled proudly. He had taught the prince well.

Thranduil held his breath both in awe for his son's obvious great talent and also in utter surprise. Lord Elrond and Gandalf exchanged knowing but no less impressed smiles. The other three warriors mumbled something beneath their breaths and nodded respectfully.

But Legolas dropped his head. He had failed. He had not got it right. He had not shot the heart of the centre. His father would not believe him ever. But even worse he felt tears stinging in his eyes. He knew his father hated it when he cried. It was weakness, nothing else. He couldn't cry now, no, he simply couldn't! Not now! He bit his lips, almost drawing blood, but it did not help, the tears were already running down his cheeks.

Thranduil saw his son's head and shoulders drop in disappointment and knew instantly what the boy must have thought. After all he was as much a perfectionist as his father. He approached him slowly. Kneeling down behind him, he gently grabbed Legolas' shoulders and turned him around. He opened his mouth to say some reassuring words, for he knew Legolas needed them and needed them badly, but the elfling jerked himself free of his grip.

"Let me!" He cried angrily – even though he was angry with himself this time, not with his father. "I hate you." He sobbed and rushed away again, this time heading home.

Thranduil was startled. He could neither move nor say a thing. The others watched in disbelief. Never had they expected the usual gentle and lovely elfling to say such a thing – least of all to his father whom he so clearly loved more than anything else in the world.

"My Lord?" Sel's soft voice got the king back to his senses. The warrior did not want to let Legolas run home on his own in the dark, but he also did not want to follow without his King's permission. Thranduil nodded as he understood.

"Follow him, make sure he returns home safely, please." Thranduil instructed, with a soft and tired whisper, slowly raising to his feet again.

Sel and one of the other warriors quickly followed Legolas, while the other two remained with Elrond, Gandalf and King Thranduil to guard them home safely as well. They walked back without speaking a word.