The Elf blearily opened his eyes, blinking slowly in the bright sunlight. Where was he? He was sitting with his back to a large mallorn tree, shadows danced on the forest floor as the sun filtered throught the shifting trees. As he stood up, Legolas noticed that he was not injured, nor was he bandaged, all of the pain that he had endured during his captivity with the orc horde was gone. But how? He had no memory of ever being rescued or escaping, or of coming to this place. Looking around, Legolas noticed a winding path that ran beside a small stream, disapearing into the forest to his right. At first his steps were somewhat hesitant, in fear that he would wake and this all be a dream, but he did not wake. Quickening he pace Legolas followed the path, deeper into the forest.
Suddenly he came to a oddly familiar fork in the road. He remembered when he was only a young Elfling, he had taken left instead of right and ended up, not at the palace, but instead at the Warden's talan. Which was nearly a mile away from his destination. Quickly he went to the right, and everything became more and more familiar. He was home.
Breaking into a run, the Prince sprinted throught the trees until he came ubruptly to the palace where he lived. A smile stretched from one side of his face to another, this was too good to be real. Legolas ran to the entrance of the palace where he came upon his father.
"Ada!" he yelled out, but his father didn't seem to hear him, not even the guards at the palace door took notice of their prince. "Ada?" he said again, this time as more of a question, again he got no response. Legolas Thranduilion turned when he heard the hoof beats of a rapidly approaching horse. One of his father's most trusted wardens dismounted quickly, too quickly. The Elf ran over to his King and stopped suddenly before him, a look of guilt and sadness crossed his normally unexpressive face.
Legolas' father cleared his throat, "What news do you bring?" Legolas heard a hint of fear in his voice, something was terribly wrong.
The warden knelt before his King, "My Lord, your son, he is dead. We had been tracking the orcs for many days ere we came to their latest encampment. They left his body among carrion fowl of Mordor, Caranar is following with his body. I am so sorry for having to give you this terrible news."
Legolas stood, petrified, for what seemed like hours. He was dead? No, it couldn't be, he was right here. He knew he was. Wasn't he? With a shudder of realization the Prince understood. He was dead, he wasn't really here, it was only his spirit, the other half would be arriving any time now. Running up to his father, who stood with his head in his hands, Legolas screamed out to him, trying to reach Thranduil in the only way he knew.
"ADA! FATHER!" though, with a shaky breath, the young elf just collasped and fell to the ground, beating his fists. His father would now probably die of sadness, causing ever more grief. This wasn't right, this wasn't the way Legolas had wanted to die, he wanted to die in battle, fighting. Not like a coward.
Thranduil suddenly looked up, he had heard his son calling him. No, he thought, shaking his head slowly it was only his imagination, Legolas was dead, but he heard it again, it was Legolas. Mentally smacking himself, Thranduil directed his attention to the stricken warden in front of him.
Legolas saw his father look up when he called to him, did the King hear his son? Or was it only Legolas' imagination?
