Fathers and Sons
~Author's Note: This is first fic I submitted in a while, huh? Sorry. I am honestly still working on Dawn's Journey, and also a couple of other ones that are not apart of the Light of Dawn series. This one isn't either, just to let you know. I have a slash one between Aragorn and Legolas, I have a friendship fic between Pippin and Legolas, and another fic with Aragorn and Legolas, only this one is just friendship. Cute...anyway. I hope you enjoy this, though I am not too happy on how it came out. I have no clue how to change it so I won't. Ta ta!~
*Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and not by me. I own only the voices in my head and the plot*
Set before the Council of Elrond, a moment between the King of Mirkwood, and his son.
A door could be heard slamming somewhere down the hall, causing the all the servants in hearing range to jump and wince at the sound. They knew that this was not good, that yet another confrontation would occur and two hearts might break, yet again.
But the lone figure in one of the rooms did not react to the sound. The golden haired Elf ignored the noise and continued packing. He only packed the bare essentials, for he would not need nor could he afford to carry more. Loud footsteps came towards his door, something very rare for the Elven folk, but the Elf heading towards his door was bound to be angry, and did not care if he was heard or not.
The loud foot steps stopped finally right outside the door, and the door swung open so hard, the occupant inside was sure it would fly off its hinges. Not that he really cared. It was not going to be needed for a while.
The Elf that slammed opened the door was an exact replica of the one that was packing just a few minutes ago, only slightly older and was far broader than the other one was. Both had long blond hair, startling blue eyes, and fine, chiseled faces. The only other thing that could tell them apart was that the younger one was dressed in a traveling outfit of green and brown, while the other wore robes that rich with color, robes made for a King.
The two stared at each other until the younger started packing again, turning his body away from his elder. This seemed to only infuriate the elder even more and he stepped forward.
"Legolas, what is the meaning of this?" he said sternly, placing his hands on his hips as he looked about the room. It was in total disarray. Clothes and other objects thrown about, showing the hastiness the youth had to pack. Weapons were laid upon the bed, ready to be packed. Provisions were scattered among the weapons, also ready. The Elf was already reaching for them to continue packing.
"I am packing, my King," Legolas replied, "What does it look like?"
"We have just been attacked by Orcs, you are not leaving!" King Thranduil cried, "The people need their Prince to lead in search for that creature."
"Word has came from Rivendell." Legolas turned to his father, but never stopped his packing. "He is holding a council, and I think I should attend it. They will need to know about the attack on Mirkwood, along with the escape of Gollum. As Mirkwood's Prince," Legolas said 'Prince' with emphasis; "It is my duty to tell them."
"Then I shall send a messenger. You will stay here and launch a counter attack."
"That is folly, my King, and you know it," Legolas shouted back at him, ceasing his motions. He moved to stand directly in front of his father, his own hands on his hips. "Those Orcs were from Mordor. They are heading back by now, most likely with Gollum. We cannot catch them now."
The Prince's response seemed to anger Thranduil even more. "I am the King and your Father! You will do as I say."
"Oh, now you are my father?" Legolas hissed, turning away. He had planned on continuing packing, but the strong hand grabbed his upper arm, and turned him back around.
"Do not disrespect me, boy!" Thranduil whispered harshly, "You were the one who wanted his independence."
"It was not independence I sought for, Father," Legolas whispered back, anger biting at his tone. He shook free from his father and walked back a few paces. The anger was clear on his face, but it slowly softened. "I sought for your approval and your faith in me to make the right decisions."
The emotion in the youth's voice paused Thranduil's reply by a few seconds. "You are making the wrong decision now, Legolas."
"To whom, father? You, or our people." Legolas resumed packing, hiding his torn heart. He blinked rapidly to bite back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. "Our people do not need someone to kill himself by following an army of Orcs to their homeland. They need someone to send word to Rivendell about what has occurred here. They will need our representation at Lord Elrond's council, they may have a plan to defeat this Shadow that has plagued our land."
"Lord Elrond," Thranduil huffed. "Elrond cares not for this world's trouble. His people are leaving these shores, as are Galadriel's people. They care not for this world any longer. They are willing to leaving it in the hands of the Man. I will not allow Men to over rule the Firstborn!"
"Then let me go there and inform them of this!" Legolas tried again, "Let the world know that there are still Elves that walk on Middle Earth that still care for it. I will do all I can to bring Mirkwood, our Kingdom, back to its former glory, and if it takes saving Middle Earth to do that, then I shall do it. I just want you to believe that I can."
Legolas finished putting his provisions and weapons in his pack, placing his twin blades in the holders of the quiver and his bow over his shoulder. His bag went on his other shoulder with intentions to place it on his horse when he got to the stables.
He moved to leave the room, but found himself blocked by the ruler of Mirkwood. Anger still radiated from the powerful being's persona, but there were other feelings mixed in. Legolas recognized them as grief, hurt, and, lastly, love.
"Legolas," the quiet voice of the King spoke, "My son. I only want what's best for you . . . you are all I have left of your mother. I . . . could not help they way I have treated you these past centuries . . . please do not leave here like this."
Legolas stared at the older Elf with mix emotions running through his blue eyes, eyes that almost mirrored the ones in front of him. Hope could be seen shining out through them momentarily, but was squashed my determination.
"Your words are almost too little, too late, my King. Middle Earth is in great peril. If the good of Middle Earth should fall, so would Mirkwood. I am doing this for my Kingdom . . . I am doing this for my King . . . my Father." Legolas placed a hand on his father's shoulders, the determination never left his face, but it softened slightly for the Elf in front of him. "I will be back, Father, and we will forgive each other for our wrong doings. And then we will be father and son once more." With that, the Great Prince of Mirkwood gave his father's should a squeeze before letting his hand fall to his side, and he left the room, swift as a breeze.
The Prince moved from the castle to the stable, placing the pack upon his faithful steed, and mounted. Three other Elves were to accompany him, and they were already mounted upon their horses outside of the stable. Legolas and his horse exited the stable and headed towards the rest of the travelers. A few words were exchanged, but Legolas barely paid attention to it. He stared back at his home, longing for something that was unknown to even him.
And as if someone heard his unspoken pray, out from the front door came King Thranduil, his royal robes and blond hair whipped around him as a sudden gust of wind came from the North. The King paused only a moment before he advanced shouting out his son's name. Legolas' eyes went wide and he dismounted, letting the wind move him towards his sire.
Father and son met in the middle and were entwined in a hug that they had not shared since the Prince's youth. Each Elf held on to the other as the wind grew strong, though they never noticed it, they were too busy wishing for the days of old to return and that all that had happen since then would be forgotten. It was a few minutes before the wind finally died down, and the embrace between Legolas and Thranduil had lessened, allowing both parties to move freer than they had before.
The youth felt the tears in his eyes as he backed away slowly, and he was comforted to see the King's own eyes grew watery. They did not speak for long minutes, they just continued to stare and hold on to each other, letting their tears fall down their porcelain skin. Finally, Thranduil moved his hand to his son's face and brushed away the tears as Legolas did the same. A small laugh escaped their lips and the years of pain and guilt slowly faded away, leaving only a few harsh memories that would need to be tended to for another day.
Thranduil stared at his son, his face showing his battle for his emotions. "I love you, my son. And I will be here waiting for your return." Legolas smiled.
"And I love you also, Father. I will return as soon as I can," he replied, and the pair shared another hug. Finally, Legolas backed away fully from his father and moved back to his horse to remount. Once that was done, Legolas turned his horse back to his father, his King and said, "Farewell, Father!"
The Mirkwood King watched his son ride off with a click of his tongue and disappear into the woods, followed by his traveling companions. He would remember that sight for the rest of his life. He would also remember when three, not four, returned home a few months later baring the news of the return of the One Ring and how the Prince Legolas valiantly volunteer to protect the Ringbearer to the doom of Mordor to destroy the evil of Mirkwood.
And he would remember the day almost a year later when news that the Ring had finally been destroyed and rejoiced when the shadow that had long plagued the beautiful woods of Mirkwood disappeared. Then news of Gondor's new King spread, and that by his side was a golden-haired Elf who had fought bravely side-by-side the Man King and a Dwarf named Gimli. And King Thranduil waited patiently for the inevitable return of Mirkwood's Prince. He waited patiently and proudly for the day that would reunite father and son once again.
The End
Like it, Hate it? I'm not sure either. I don't like asking for people to review, but it would be nice if you did.
~Author's Note: This is first fic I submitted in a while, huh? Sorry. I am honestly still working on Dawn's Journey, and also a couple of other ones that are not apart of the Light of Dawn series. This one isn't either, just to let you know. I have a slash one between Aragorn and Legolas, I have a friendship fic between Pippin and Legolas, and another fic with Aragorn and Legolas, only this one is just friendship. Cute...anyway. I hope you enjoy this, though I am not too happy on how it came out. I have no clue how to change it so I won't. Ta ta!~
*Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, and not by me. I own only the voices in my head and the plot*
Set before the Council of Elrond, a moment between the King of Mirkwood, and his son.
A door could be heard slamming somewhere down the hall, causing the all the servants in hearing range to jump and wince at the sound. They knew that this was not good, that yet another confrontation would occur and two hearts might break, yet again.
But the lone figure in one of the rooms did not react to the sound. The golden haired Elf ignored the noise and continued packing. He only packed the bare essentials, for he would not need nor could he afford to carry more. Loud footsteps came towards his door, something very rare for the Elven folk, but the Elf heading towards his door was bound to be angry, and did not care if he was heard or not.
The loud foot steps stopped finally right outside the door, and the door swung open so hard, the occupant inside was sure it would fly off its hinges. Not that he really cared. It was not going to be needed for a while.
The Elf that slammed opened the door was an exact replica of the one that was packing just a few minutes ago, only slightly older and was far broader than the other one was. Both had long blond hair, startling blue eyes, and fine, chiseled faces. The only other thing that could tell them apart was that the younger one was dressed in a traveling outfit of green and brown, while the other wore robes that rich with color, robes made for a King.
The two stared at each other until the younger started packing again, turning his body away from his elder. This seemed to only infuriate the elder even more and he stepped forward.
"Legolas, what is the meaning of this?" he said sternly, placing his hands on his hips as he looked about the room. It was in total disarray. Clothes and other objects thrown about, showing the hastiness the youth had to pack. Weapons were laid upon the bed, ready to be packed. Provisions were scattered among the weapons, also ready. The Elf was already reaching for them to continue packing.
"I am packing, my King," Legolas replied, "What does it look like?"
"We have just been attacked by Orcs, you are not leaving!" King Thranduil cried, "The people need their Prince to lead in search for that creature."
"Word has came from Rivendell." Legolas turned to his father, but never stopped his packing. "He is holding a council, and I think I should attend it. They will need to know about the attack on Mirkwood, along with the escape of Gollum. As Mirkwood's Prince," Legolas said 'Prince' with emphasis; "It is my duty to tell them."
"Then I shall send a messenger. You will stay here and launch a counter attack."
"That is folly, my King, and you know it," Legolas shouted back at him, ceasing his motions. He moved to stand directly in front of his father, his own hands on his hips. "Those Orcs were from Mordor. They are heading back by now, most likely with Gollum. We cannot catch them now."
The Prince's response seemed to anger Thranduil even more. "I am the King and your Father! You will do as I say."
"Oh, now you are my father?" Legolas hissed, turning away. He had planned on continuing packing, but the strong hand grabbed his upper arm, and turned him back around.
"Do not disrespect me, boy!" Thranduil whispered harshly, "You were the one who wanted his independence."
"It was not independence I sought for, Father," Legolas whispered back, anger biting at his tone. He shook free from his father and walked back a few paces. The anger was clear on his face, but it slowly softened. "I sought for your approval and your faith in me to make the right decisions."
The emotion in the youth's voice paused Thranduil's reply by a few seconds. "You are making the wrong decision now, Legolas."
"To whom, father? You, or our people." Legolas resumed packing, hiding his torn heart. He blinked rapidly to bite back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. "Our people do not need someone to kill himself by following an army of Orcs to their homeland. They need someone to send word to Rivendell about what has occurred here. They will need our representation at Lord Elrond's council, they may have a plan to defeat this Shadow that has plagued our land."
"Lord Elrond," Thranduil huffed. "Elrond cares not for this world's trouble. His people are leaving these shores, as are Galadriel's people. They care not for this world any longer. They are willing to leaving it in the hands of the Man. I will not allow Men to over rule the Firstborn!"
"Then let me go there and inform them of this!" Legolas tried again, "Let the world know that there are still Elves that walk on Middle Earth that still care for it. I will do all I can to bring Mirkwood, our Kingdom, back to its former glory, and if it takes saving Middle Earth to do that, then I shall do it. I just want you to believe that I can."
Legolas finished putting his provisions and weapons in his pack, placing his twin blades in the holders of the quiver and his bow over his shoulder. His bag went on his other shoulder with intentions to place it on his horse when he got to the stables.
He moved to leave the room, but found himself blocked by the ruler of Mirkwood. Anger still radiated from the powerful being's persona, but there were other feelings mixed in. Legolas recognized them as grief, hurt, and, lastly, love.
"Legolas," the quiet voice of the King spoke, "My son. I only want what's best for you . . . you are all I have left of your mother. I . . . could not help they way I have treated you these past centuries . . . please do not leave here like this."
Legolas stared at the older Elf with mix emotions running through his blue eyes, eyes that almost mirrored the ones in front of him. Hope could be seen shining out through them momentarily, but was squashed my determination.
"Your words are almost too little, too late, my King. Middle Earth is in great peril. If the good of Middle Earth should fall, so would Mirkwood. I am doing this for my Kingdom . . . I am doing this for my King . . . my Father." Legolas placed a hand on his father's shoulders, the determination never left his face, but it softened slightly for the Elf in front of him. "I will be back, Father, and we will forgive each other for our wrong doings. And then we will be father and son once more." With that, the Great Prince of Mirkwood gave his father's should a squeeze before letting his hand fall to his side, and he left the room, swift as a breeze.
The Prince moved from the castle to the stable, placing the pack upon his faithful steed, and mounted. Three other Elves were to accompany him, and they were already mounted upon their horses outside of the stable. Legolas and his horse exited the stable and headed towards the rest of the travelers. A few words were exchanged, but Legolas barely paid attention to it. He stared back at his home, longing for something that was unknown to even him.
And as if someone heard his unspoken pray, out from the front door came King Thranduil, his royal robes and blond hair whipped around him as a sudden gust of wind came from the North. The King paused only a moment before he advanced shouting out his son's name. Legolas' eyes went wide and he dismounted, letting the wind move him towards his sire.
Father and son met in the middle and were entwined in a hug that they had not shared since the Prince's youth. Each Elf held on to the other as the wind grew strong, though they never noticed it, they were too busy wishing for the days of old to return and that all that had happen since then would be forgotten. It was a few minutes before the wind finally died down, and the embrace between Legolas and Thranduil had lessened, allowing both parties to move freer than they had before.
The youth felt the tears in his eyes as he backed away slowly, and he was comforted to see the King's own eyes grew watery. They did not speak for long minutes, they just continued to stare and hold on to each other, letting their tears fall down their porcelain skin. Finally, Thranduil moved his hand to his son's face and brushed away the tears as Legolas did the same. A small laugh escaped their lips and the years of pain and guilt slowly faded away, leaving only a few harsh memories that would need to be tended to for another day.
Thranduil stared at his son, his face showing his battle for his emotions. "I love you, my son. And I will be here waiting for your return." Legolas smiled.
"And I love you also, Father. I will return as soon as I can," he replied, and the pair shared another hug. Finally, Legolas backed away fully from his father and moved back to his horse to remount. Once that was done, Legolas turned his horse back to his father, his King and said, "Farewell, Father!"
The Mirkwood King watched his son ride off with a click of his tongue and disappear into the woods, followed by his traveling companions. He would remember that sight for the rest of his life. He would also remember when three, not four, returned home a few months later baring the news of the return of the One Ring and how the Prince Legolas valiantly volunteer to protect the Ringbearer to the doom of Mordor to destroy the evil of Mirkwood.
And he would remember the day almost a year later when news that the Ring had finally been destroyed and rejoiced when the shadow that had long plagued the beautiful woods of Mirkwood disappeared. Then news of Gondor's new King spread, and that by his side was a golden-haired Elf who had fought bravely side-by-side the Man King and a Dwarf named Gimli. And King Thranduil waited patiently for the inevitable return of Mirkwood's Prince. He waited patiently and proudly for the day that would reunite father and son once again.
The End
Like it, Hate it? I'm not sure either. I don't like asking for people to review, but it would be nice if you did.