It had become very apparent to him once he got older that his mother's death had not been an accident. The Orcs did not just happen to attack them the day he and his mother had gone into the forest to play, they had been sent to find them. That was the thing fighting against Sauron, unlike Orcs he planned, calculated and schemed. He watched, learned, and applied it. He knew the best ways to try and take down the kingdom of Greenwood the Great, and the best way to start was to get rid of the king. Many attempts had been made to have him killed to no avail, and so he had gone a less direct route. Slaughter those the king loved and watch him fade to grief.
His mother must have realized this because after half an hour of running through the forest with him held strongly in his arms, she had buried him at the base of a tree, begging it to hide him among the root and conceal him.
She told him that he was not to move or make a sound, no matter what, until Ada came for him.
She kissed his head, told him how much she loved him and left into the forest without him.
The tree was scared, he could tell but he did not understand why. It tried to comfort him nonetheless, but it did not work. He wanted his Nana. But he stayed where he was just as she had told him to do.
Eventually, the evil creatures had come sniffing towards him, faceless shadows of the forest that wreaked of unpleasant things. The tree clutched him tighter and lowered a few more branches to conceal him fully in the undergrowth.
He knew these creatures could not find him, and so he did just as his Nana had told him, and he did not move or make a sound.
Slowly, more dark creatures began swirling about him. Oblivious to the tiny creature at their feet. He would learn later that this was the beginning of the invasion, the one that sent his people fleeing from their city and into the mountain.
They threw their fires behind them when they left, igniting the forest. Then even the tree's could not help him, all they could do was push him away and tell him to run. To this day he could remember how the coals he stepped on had burnt his bare feet, and the smoke choked his lungs.
Blindly he stumped his way through the forest as it burned around him, at first he had tried calling for his father but quickly gave up as the smoke scorched his throat and stole his voice.
Eventually, the tree's directed him into a cave to shield him from the flames, sacrificing themselves and willfully falling over the doorway to keep anything sinister from joining him.
All night he sat at the back of the cave, knees drawn to his chest, hands covering his ears to try and drown out the sounds from outside.
….
He was numb as he stared down at the charred body of his beloved wife, recognizable only by the necklace she always wore. The necklace he had made for her at the very beginning of their relationship. It was far from perfect, smithing had never been his specialty, but she had adored it nonetheless.
They hadn't found his son. They his hadn't even found his tiny body.
Every breath he took felt like he was inhaling shards of glass, and his blood burned inside of his veins.
He wasn't aware of how long he had been standing there, looking down that the elleth who had stolen his heart so completely he wasn't sure how it still beat without her when Galion came bursting into the room, "Thranduil! The tree's call for you. They have Legolas."
He tried not to hope. Tried to remind himself that just because the tree's 'had' his son did not mean he was still alive. He tried not to hope. But he did anyway.
With every step he took, every beat of his heart, he hoped a bit more. Hoped. Prayed. Begged.
The tree's directed him to a cave which entrance had been covered by charred remnants of what had once been a massive Oak tree. How was it possible that his tiny son would be safe and sound inside?
He got as close as he could to the entrance and called as loudly as his own charred throat would allow, choking on his own tears, "Legolas?"
"Ada?" The voice was small, pitiful and desperate.
That was all the encouragement Thranduil needed and somehow he managed to squeeze himself between the branches of the fallen tree, contorting himself until he nearly fell through the last few branches and into the cave.
Even after so much determination to keep beating his heat stopped.
Legolas was pressed to the back of the cave, the bottoms of his feet completely burned and bloody, his clothes sporting holes that had been burned into them and his skin underneath, lips dry and split his voice weak and raspy. "Ada!"
The elfling attempted to move towards his father but fell to the ground with a cry of pain the very second his feet touched the cave floor, but it did not matter, he was in his father's arms in hardly a second anyways.
…..
Thank you all again for the wonderful support, I cannot thank you enough.
It warms my heart like a bonfire.
I would love nothing more than to keep hearing from you!
