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

Father and Son – Chapter 4

Legolas lay on his stomach, on his bed, still trying to control his sobbing. He had cried hard into his pillows. He missed his Nana, he wished she was there, holding him tight and rocking him to sleep like she had always done when he was sad. But then again, he wished even more his Ada would come to him and do that. But his Ada would never come and he wondered what a bad son he must be.

A soft knock on the door startled him. He sat up on his bed, listening intently, hoping yet fearing it would be his father.

"Legolas, it is I, Uncle Dir. May I come in?" He heard Mithrandir's voice say. He let out the breath he had held. Strange how he could feel so relieved yet so disappointed at the same time.  He got up, quickly wiped away his tears with the end of his sleeve and walked to the locked door. He opened it slowly, spying through a small slit to make sure it really was Mithrandir.

The wizard softly smiled down on him, slightly pushing the door open. "It is only I, we are safe." He whispered and winked. Legolas smiled back conspiringly, let the wizard pass, closed the door behind him and locked it again.

"So, that was a rather impressive shot, Master Prince!" Gandalf said, sitting down on a chair nearby the bed.

"No, I didn't shot the centre." Legolas stated sadly.

"Well, it needs many months of practice to do that. It was only your second proper shot, was it not? It was very impressive, believe me! All the warriors praised you!" Gandalf reassured, smiling unintentionally as Legolas climbed on his lap. He sat there face to face with the wizard, absently fumbling in Gandalf's long grey beard.

"Uncle Dir, do you think Ada…." He sighed. "You think Ada thinks so, too?" Of course that meant so much more to him than any warrior's two penny worth.

"I am more than certain he does, my little wood elf. He was very impressed and very proud. Very, very proud indeed. He told me." That in itself was a lie of course, but Gandalf knew the king was very proud, so why not put it that way for the child's sake?

"But why does he hate me so much?" Legolas asked almost inaudibly. He was so afraid to look into Gandalf's eyes, fearing he could see an answer there he could not bear to get but he had to look up. He must know.

Gandalf sighed. "Oh, my little elfling, he does not hate you at all! He loves you with all his heart. He just cannot show it so well. You know, one does not always show or say what is in one's heart. When you told him today you hated him, did you mean it?" He said, stroking Legolas' head gently with his large weathered hand.

"NO! No… I was angry, I didn't mean it. But I disappoint him, always, I-I…" He sighed.

"You see, sometimes we say things we do not mean, and sometimes we do things that make others think we hate them or that we are disappointed, but in fact that is not true. You must not think your father hates you or that you have disappointed him. You have not. And he really loves you. He really does."

"But I-I…" Legolas started to cry again.

"Yes?" Gandalf squeezed Legolas arms briefly. But he did not speak. He was too busy getting his sobs under control.

"Little heart, tell me, it is alright." He reassured once again, putting his index finger under the child's chin and turning his head up to meet his gaze. He almost wished he had not done that. The sadness in those big blue orbs was heartbreaking. He wiped away the tears with his thumb.

"I miss him so. He is here. But I miss him so much. I miss him like I miss my nana. But I don't know, he isn't dead, is he? Or is he dead maybe?" He sobbed out worriedly.

"Oh, no, he is not dead! I know how much you miss him. But he is not dead. He is here. Do not worry, my child, he is not dead. He is just very tired and very busy being king. But he is here. He is alright." Gandalf said, trying hard to suppress the tears he felt stinging in his own eyes as he saw new big tears of relief rolling down the sweet little face in front of him and as he heard a shuddering sigh escaping Legolas' mouth.

"Don't tell him, please! Please, don't tell him, I cried. Promise me, please." Legolas wailed on.

"I promise." He smiled his most assuring smile. "And now come and give your old uncle a big hug, won't you?" He said and pulled Legolas close. The elfling pressed himself tightly against the wizard's chest, crying silently in Gandalf's grey beard and tunic. The wizard leaned his cheek against the top of Legolas' head and started humming an old lullaby, gently rocking forth and back. But it took quite some time until Legolas finally fell asleep completely exhausted from the day's turmoil.

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"My friend, may I ask your advice?" Thranduil sat at the top end of the banquet table in his dining hall, Lord Elrond next to him, on his left side. They had been eating quietly until now.

"Of course, my Lord." Elrond replied, grateful that the awkward silence had finally been broken.

"How can I… why do I…" He sighed. This was so hard. "What do I do wrong?"

"I take it, you are talking about Legolas?" Lord Elrond asked softly.

"Yes. It seems no matter what I do I do not get the boy under control."

"Well, that is probably the thing you do wrong, if I may be honest with you."

"What do you mean?"

"You do not have to bring him under control. There is no need to, Thranduil. He is a good child. I am amazed how mature he already is. It sometimes seems to me he is more grown up than my adult sons!" Elrond smiled at the thought. "The question is: should he be? After all, he is a mere elfling." He added.

"I know, but he has to be mature, I cannot watch over him all the time. I try my best. I set up guards, if he is alone. And he has a nursemaid. I cannot take care of both – him and my duties as a king. There is so much to do, so much work, he has to understand. My people need me. But sometimes it seems to me he simply does not want to understand." Thranduil said.

Elrond shot him an angry look. "How can you say such a thing? Do you not see that he is trying everything to please you? Really everything?! Forgive me, with all due respect, I think it is you who does not understand." The Noldor elf could hardly suppress his anger.

"What do mean?"

Elrond sighed. "My friend, may I speak bluntly?" he asked more calmly now.

"You have my ear!" Thranduil leaned forward and looked at him more than somewhat desperately to find the answers to his questions.

"Legolas is a child. But from what I have seen I think you are treating him like an adult, you want him to be mature and obeying all your rules. But children are not like that. Believe me, I know what I am talking about!" He joked and Thranduil smiled knowingly.

"To me it seems you rely on him, you want him to be there for you. But he is the child, he is your son! You cannot ask that much of him. You have to be there for him! And you must show your love to him! You know, why that thing happened today? Because he wants you to believe in him. Could you not see how great his disappointment was when you did not? That is all he asks of you. To believe in him, to trust him, to, well, simply, love him. I know it is hard for you. There is too much you have to take care of, and I know you miss your wife, but, Thranduil, he is your son! And he has lost his mother. He is fragile still, and he needs you."

Thranduil stared on his empty plate. He suddenly felt very ill in the stomach.

"B-But what can I do?" His voice was only a hoarse whisper now.

"Well, just the normal things a father would do with his child." Lord Elrond replied, sighing, squeezing Thranduil's left hand briefly.

"But what is that?" Thranduil looked at him with sad eyes. "You see, my wife used to do all these things. She was the one taking care of him. I didn't have the time… I only brought him to bed sometimes or played hide and seek with him, but everything else…" he trailed of.

"I see. Well, first of all, make sure you spend at least a bit of time with him - every day! Talk to him, ask him how his day was. He's such a clever little boy, you will find him eager to learn everything you would teach him. And never ever simply send him away without explanation. He cannot understand that you probably just don't have time for him. He will mistake it for rejection."

"But that is the main problem. I do not have time. And when I send him away what can I do or say without hurting him? Today, when I sent him away when he interrupted our meeting… it was… so hard to see this sadness in his eyes. I tried to explain to him why he should not have gone in there. But he did not seem to understand. And he was so sad. It… it almost broke my heart." Thranduil admitted.

"Well, why did you send him away anyway?" Lord Elrond asked patiently.

"Because he interrupted our meeting. That was impolite and rude behaviour, especially for a prince. He should not be encouraged to do such things by me being lenient. And he surely should not climb on anyone's lap without being told or ask to do so or at least asking before he does. And besides we still had to talk about some things. Things I do not think a child should hear."

Lord Elrond could hardly suppress a groan. "But, my Lord, he was there already, anyway! And the worst part was over. I am sure he would not have disturbed us the slightest bit nor would he taken harm listening to us! He could have stayed. No one would have minded it. And either do I think anyone considered it impolite or rude behaviour. Actually it was lovely! He is such a sweet mucky little pup!" He laughed. And laughed even harder when he saw Thranduil's shocked look.

"Pardon the expression, my lord. I am sorry, truly sorry. Forgive me… those were not my words actually! Arwen said that when we visited you some years ago and she saw him for the first time. Do you remember?" He stilled laughed.

"Well, I might have guessed. I did not think you knew such vocabulary! And I am amazed to find your daughter does!" Thranduil said dryly, making Elrond laugh even more. And he could not help chuckling himself.

"Actually, I had to stop her, Elladan and Elrohir from kidnapping your son! They were so in love with him! And, oh, Celebrian, I never thought it possible, but she conspired with our children back then! They really planned to secretly take him back home to Imladris with us. It took all my talking skills to convince them that you probably would not like that specific idea. But in all truth it would not have taken them a lot to convince me to join into their plan!" He revealed.

Both grinned.

"Oh well, I was not aware he had such an effect on anyone." Thranduil said.

"Had? Oh, my friend, he still has, believe me. You can ask anyone! Ask your servants! Your warriors even! I am always wondering where you pull the strength up from to resist him, really! While all around you simply drop to their knees and fall in love with him."

"You mean, he still is, how did you put it, a sweet mucky little pup?" They laughed again.

"Oh yes, he is."

"Well, I think I should check your bags then before you leave." He said, winking at Elrond.

They laughed again, caught their breaths and sighed. It was good to laugh. There was too less laughter in this palace lately.

"But to be serious again, is there anything else you think I should do? I am sorry, I must sound like a fool to you, but you have three children…"

"You do not sound like a fool. I had a lot to learn myself when the twins were born." Elrond replied gently and smiled, briefly lost in a sudden memory. "Bring him to bed at night, tell him bedtime stories, make it your every day habit if you can. So he has something he can look forward to every day. You know, I would like to suggest, teach him how to shoot an arrow, but I think there is no need for that anymore, would you not agree?" He winked, and Thranduil nodded smiling warmly at the thought.

"Basically just do what your hearts tell you to. I also highly recommend letting him invite some friends to here, some other elflings to play with. It is really to quiet here! Let him live in his own little child world for a while…I can see he is a bit of a dreamer, do not deny him that, he needs it. And most importantly tell him that you love him. He must hear it from time to time."

They locked eyes for a moment, both knowing how much that idea frightened Thranduil. Then Gandalf entered the room.

"Mithrandir, mellon nin, have a seat! I will have your meal warmed up for you, if you like?" Thranduil kindly offered, grateful for the interruption.

"Mhm, well, honestly I would love that!" Gandalf said, stroking his stomach hungrily and winking at Elrond while he sat down next to him.

Thranduil turned around to order his servant, but the elf behind him had already heard Gandalf's words. He only nodded smiling knowingly, took the plate Thranduil handed him, then headed towards the kitchen.

"How is Legolas?" Lord Elrond asked.

"Well, I put him to bed and tucked him in, he was rather tired."

"Did he say anything? I mean, about what has happened." Thranduil wanted to know.

"Oh, he did, but I told him, he should not worry about these things. He should be alright now. Do not worry, my friend. I can assure you, he did not mean what he said. He loves you." Thranduil blushed a bit and blushed even more as he felt the heat of his blood creeping up his neck into his face.

"What did he say then?" He asked almost shyly. He wished he had gone to Legolas and talked to him himself.

"Well, I do not think breaking my promise to not tell anyone would be wise! I saw that shot, too!" Gandalf winked, and the two elves laughed. "He is quite a good archer already, that sweet mucky little pup of yours, my friend!" He added.

Thranduil and Elrond exchanged knowing looks and burst into fits of laughter.

"Oh, well, so I must check your bags, too, then, I think." Thranduil laughed. Gandalf did not quite understand what he was talking about or what was so funny, but either way, it was good to see his friends laugh so he joined in.

They sat for a while, drinking wine – Gandalf eating – and talking about other things, mainly the latest orc attacks. It was clear that something needed to be done and soon, but what exactly, none of them could say yet. The orc seemed to increase in numbers day by day so the first logical step would be to reinforce Thranduil's army. That task of course would take some time to be accomplished.

Many elves had settled all parts of the woods during the time of the watchful peace and a large part of Thranduil's army was spread all over Mirkwood. It would take some time to reunite them. A further problem was the lack of young warriors. Many elves chose other careers these days as being a warrior did not seem to be an interesting job anymore in times of peace. But now the king needed both, old warriors and new recruits, in order to make sure that he would not run out of warriors in times of battle.

He knew in the not so far future he himself would reinforce his army with a young warrior, a warrior he did not want ever to face the ugly phiz of war. But that would be inevitable, he knew. And it frightened him for this warrior was his only child. He shuddered at the mere thought of Legolas fighting spiders, orcs and wargs. He flinched as Lord Elrond suddenly touched his arm.

"Mellon nin?" The Noldor elf looked concerned.

"Beg you pardon? I- I was thinking, could you repeat…?" he stuttered. Obviously he had not heard Lord Elrond's last question.

"I asked whether we should continue tomorrow. You look tired." Elrond said.

"Oh, yes, maybe it is time to get some sleep. We should also hear what my counsellors think, I guess." The king agreed.

They rose and left the dining hall. On their way to their bedchambers they passed Legolas' bedroom, and Thranduil felt the sudden urge to check in on his son. But as always he cast the feeling aside – at least as long as Lord Elrond and Mithrandir were around he would not display such emotional behaviour. He thought of the evening's event at the archery ground and he shuddered at the thought that Legolas had run out in the woods without caring to take an escort with him. And suddenly he wondered how Legolas had got to and back from the training ground in the afternoon prior to the whole incident.

"Elrond, do you happen to know how Legolas got back from the archery field this afternoon?" He asked worriedly, stopping in front his own bedroom's door. He knew, there was no way, the other elf would know, how Legolas had gotten there, since he had been with him in the conference room at that time.

"What do you mean? He ran I think. He did not take his pony." Elrond answered seriously yet irritated.

"No, I mean, do you know if any warriors accompanied him?"

"No, he was on his own when he arrived here."

"What?!" Thranduil shouted almost hysterically. "He is not allowed to walk the woods alone! It is far too dangerous. Do not tell me he flouted this rule! You know what that would mean! Are you sure?"

"Well, yes, I am quite certain. And I know, what it means, but do you not think it would be wise to let him get away with it this one time? I am sure he will not do it again." Elrond tried to calm the king. He knew what consequences such behaviour could have for an elfling - any elfling, no matter if of Noldor, Sindarin, Silvan, Galladhrim or any other heritage. It was quite simple: a beating.*

Elves would never beat their children themselves though in order to prevent irreparable damage to the bond they shared with their offspring. And of course a punishment such as giving their child a spanking would only be executed if truly necessary, for example when a child endangered itself by flouting an important rule on purpose. In such a case the parents would send their disobedient child to relatives such as an uncle or an aunt to let them execute the penalty. And of course in comparison to humans the elves would still be very gentle with their children…

But Thranduil did not have any siblings or friends close enough that he would trust them to carry out such a task. And he definitely would not ask Lord Elrond or Mithrandir to do it. He sighed. What should he do? Do it himself? Was it really necessary? He should talk to Legolas first to make sure he really had done such a mistake.

"Thranduil, you should not punish him. He probably was so excited about his shot he did not realize what he was doing. You do not know what you would do to him if you would punish him in such a way." Mithrandir interjected.

"I fear I have no other choice, Mithrandir. If he does not learn to follow rules now then he will never do it. And this is not just any rule. It is the first, the most important rule for all elflings in Mirkwood! No elfling is allowed to walk the woods without an adult accompanying them. And he should know that better than anyone else. Hell, a year ago he almost was killed when he was guarded! What do you think could have happened to him today without guards! I cannot allow him to be so ignorant, not if it could cost him his life. I cannot risk being lenient and leaving him thinking there is no need to take this rule seriously."

"Mellon nin..." Lord Elrond tried again.

"No, Elrond, as much as I appreciate your advice, in this case I have no choice but to be strict. Mirkwood is not Rivendell. My woods are a very dangerous place, especially for an elfling. We have spiders here not to mention orcs and wargs. He could have been killed! And he is not just any elfling. He is the only heir to the thrown! Just think about what that means! What it would mean for Mirkwood if she would lose her only prince! And besides what would you have done if your sons would have endangered themselves in such a way on purpose?"

"I doubt he did this on purpose." Elrond offered. But he saw the stern look on Thranduil's face and knew there was nothing he could do or say to change the king's mind. The punishment was inevitable. And to his surprise he could understand why it was necessary. He probably would make the same decision if Legolas was his child.

"Mellyn nin, if you would excuse me now. I have some thinking to do. Rest well." Thranduil said sadly, opened the door to his room and left them standing in the corridor.

"He must not do it!" Gandalf whispered his face one single worried frown.

"I know. But what choice does he have? To be honest if I were Legolas' father I would probably consider doing the same." Elrond said equally worried.

"No, you do not understand. If he does this to Legolas, the boy will break. I should not tell you this because I promised the elfling not to tell anyone, but I have to. He already thinks his father hates him. He cried his eyes out after what had happened at the archery field. He cried himself to sleep. You cannot believe how incredible lost the elfling feels. Thranduil will only achieve the exact opposite if he punishes him. And that would truly be dangerous for Legolas." The wizard explained trying hard to keep his voice low.

"But do you suggest he should do instead then? I mean, he is right, this is serious. Legolas could have gotten himself into big trouble out there all alone. He probably needs to learn a lesson to keep him from doing such a thing again."

"What about talking and listening to his son for a change!" Gandalf was angry. He really liked Thranduil, but the elven king could be so damn stubborn it was unbelievable! And his oblivious behaviour concerning Legolas' needs was dangerously stupid in many ways.

"Then you should try and talk to him again tomorrow." Elrond suggested.

"This I surely will!" Gandalf said, whirled around and swiftly walked down to his guest chamber while Elrond went to his room.

On the other side of the door to Thranduil's bedchamber stood an elven king, once strong and proud, now feeling utterly small and so weak he sank to his knees. One single silver tear was rolling down his pale cheek. Thanks to his keen hearing he had heard everything. He wished he had not. For the first time in his entire life he wished he was human so he could not have heard what his friends had said.

He sighed once again. At some point this day he had lost count of how many times he had done that.

If only they knew how hard this is for me. If only Legolas knew…

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* please see A/N at the beginning of chapter 1 for more information! Don't worry! Maybe the term "spanking" would be more appropriate here… I just didn't remember that verb when I wrote this story.