Thranduil watched as his son walked a very, very thin line. Admittedly, Legolas was the one who had put the line there in the first place and had he been asked, Thranduil would be unable to say exactly where the line laid.
But it was certainly not on the side of Avaleina's hip where Legolas's hand currently rested.
Self - restraint had always been one of Legolas' son's strong suits, but love was hard to restrain from. Even for the Prince of it.
They had slipped before, and they would probably slip several more times before this cursed war ended. Sometimes Legolas told him, sometimes he did not. Sometimes Thranduil saw them, curled up in the same bed in the healer's ward trying to lose their nightmares in one another, or sitting tucked under the tree's where almost none would see them trading whispers, laughs and probably more than a few kisses.
Even if he had not seen (and never commented) on the other things, Thranduil would definitely have noticed the weaved bow strings tied around Ava's finger over twenty years ago. It was on the correct finger, but wrong hand.
Not that it changed the promise.
Thranduil wasn't an idiot, and certainly, Legolas knew that sooner or later he would notice the 'ring.' He had tapped it, once, a week after he noticed it. Neither had ever said anything about it and so neither had he.
Legolas was good at talking but not always at accurately expressing, and so many things went largely unspoken about if the topic was highly emotional. It had always been that way.
Thranduil had tried to go convince Legolas away from his line, convince him it didn't need to exist, that he could be happy. Happier, anyway. At least he would not be so lonely.
Part of it was out of selfishness because it hurt his heart deeply to see his beloved Greenleaf suffering the same abscess as him. To feel the same pain that sometimes just felt like numbness.
Legolas had said only one thing to him in reply, and the emotion in his voice had kept Thranduil from ever trying to sway him again: "And if she dies, what then? What will I do?"
It was dangerous to love that deeply in this forest. Especially dangerous for two captains who faced evil day in and day out.
It hurt to not love the one you wanted especially when they were so close, but it might be the death of Legolas if he loved and lost.
Thranduil watched as they left their cluster of archers to frolic in the treeline and joined those dancing in the field around the fire. They were beautiful to watch dance, they were beautiful to watch do many things together. He missed when it wasn't uncommon to see Legolas smile like that.
Tonight, it seemed that Legolas had left his self-restraint crown in his room.
Walking close together, but not touching, they disappeared into the trees. He could not blame them, it was hard to resist during such hard times.
….
Legolas returned, alone, a few hours later. On his way to where Thranduil still sat at the table they had used for their celebration feast Legolas smoothly snagged an entire bottle of wine from a table.
Without a word he threw himself into the chair beside his father, carelessly pulling the cork out of wine with his teeth and tossing it onto the table. He didn't bother with a glass.
"That's going to hurt in the morning," Thranduil commented, not looking at Legolas because he knew that the knowing sorrow in his own eyes might erode Legolas composure; his son had already had a fair amount to drink for the night.
Legolas took another long drink, perhaps trying to fill the void. "Yes."
Neither of them was talking about the hangover.
Silently, Legolas tipped the bottle towards his father in a silent offering. Thranduil accepted, and also did not bother with a glass.
…
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