2. THE AGONY OF REGRET
Legolas stared at that nightmare for a very long time, continuing to hope to be able to see any sign of life.
"You can't leave me! I'm not ready to be king! I can't lose you too!" Legolas' mind raced and he found himself starting a dialogue in one direction only.
He had disobeyed him, he had dishonored him, he had challenged him, but his father had rushed to his aid without the slightest hesitation.
He remembered when he was little that he had heard him confidently say "I would give my life for you, Ion nîn!" They were words spoken with love then, but part of him had begun to doubt as their relationship cooled over the centuries.
Legolas forced himself to his feet, feeling his regret for Tauriel vanish in the face of a loss that had always been a threat he had never paid attention to.
Now it was a reality ...
He would have prevented those vile creatures from stealing even the body of a father whom he had despised and dismissed as his worst enemy. He would not do that to his King as well.
He deserved to rest among his beloved people! With difficulty, he managed to find a road that descended and was not too steep.
He stopped several times to catch his breath and was forced to try to badly bandage the wound, when he realized he was leaving a clearly visible and dangerous trail.
Once at the base of the cliff he saw the figure poured out on the ground wondering why the King had come only in search of him.
Why had Galion or Feren agreed to be ordered to stay behind? Why hadn't one of them taken care to secretly follow him, disobeying orders?
He had to find a way to feel less guilty!
He approached him slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of the slightest movement, failing to do so.
Thranduil's face was almost as pale as the snow on which he lay, his mouth slightly parted, his features as still and relaxed as he hadn't seen them in some time.
His father looked peaceful and this terrified him.
He knelt down hissing in pain, a pain that disappeared as soon as he opened his eyes.
He started to touch him, but his hands remained suspended over the King, uncertain and trembling.
Thranduil had always shown himself strong and cold to his people and to him too.
A millennial elf that neither time nor wars could ever bring down.
He had believed in it so much that she turned her back on him, assuming that she would have other opportunities to confront him.
"Ada ... don't leave me!" He whispered inaudibly "Hate me if you want, but don't leave me!" Warm tears gathered in the Prince's eyes, but he didn't let them fall.
His father needed him.
He wasn't going to be weak. Leaning one arm in the freezing snow, he lowered his head to put an ear over the king's mouth.
The wind answered him, strong enough not to let him know if he was still breathing. He put a finger on his throat, but his hands were shaking too much to be able to feel anything.
Desperate, he took the dagger and cut the laces of his armor neatly, removing it as quickly as possible.
He knew moving it was a risky choice, but he had to know!
He placed an ear on his father's broad chest and waited. But the only thing he could hear were the cries of the orcs, amplified by those half-destroyed ruins, their own labored breathing and that tedious wind that seemed to mock him by whipping his face and hair with force.
He stood up, letting that unspeakable pain make its way into his chest, lowering his shoulders, making him sob and releasing warm tears.
He put her hands on her father's chest and squeezed the precious fabric with desperation "Dartho na nin..." (Stay with me ...) he whispered between one sob and the next "Avo awartha nîn!" (Do not abandon me!).
In a gesture that had not been allowed for some time, he put an arm under his father's shoulders, while with the other hand he grabbed his side, using a lot of delicacy in pulling him up, to tighten him to his chest.
The King's head fell on his shoulder as he lay limp against the Prince.
Legolas ignored him, crying at the memory of the last exchange similar to the one, which took place centuries before, the memory of which only resurfaced at that moment...while he was holding his father's body close to him!
That warm and reassuring embrace was gone, he would no longer hear his imperious voice that he had so despised, nor sought in those cold and distant eyes, the approval he so desired.
He wouldn't hate whoever saved his life. With the last gesture, Thranduil had managed to dispel all doubts.
How could he have believed Tauriel's poisonous words?
His father was capable of love. A love so authentic and deep enough to push him to sacrifice himself without the slightest hesitation.
Legolas hugged his parent to himself with greater force, not being able to think of being able to separate from him, no one would have divided them, orcs or elves they were.
He interrupted the embrace by making sure that the sovereign's back rests on his knee, while he arranged his father's hair, blown by the wind.
He gently caressed his face, letting go of a now foreign contact.
"Mankoi lle uma tanya?" (Why did you do that?) He asked inaudibly, as warm tears wet his face.
A golden lock was placed in the middle, carried by the wind and Legolas placed it behind his father's ear, annoyed at having been interrupted, but still remaining delicate in his gestures.
As he did so, his fingers touched the icy metal of the crown and the Prince was not a little surprised to notice it only then.
That evil symbol that seemed to have taken everything...
The affection of his father, the understanding, the time they could have spent together...
A title that he had always held responsible for their removal and now stood staring at it wondering if it could have been different. It was he who had stopped looking for him, convinced and hurt that his father put the kingdom before him...
Of course, Thranduil would never allow him such physical contact, he was now an adult elf.
He remembered that when he was a child there was more freedom...he could sit on the King's legs, brush his hair, enjoy his protective embrace.
Growing up everything had changed, as normal. But it was as if his father no longer saw his son in the young elf, but a mere guard to scold and expect much from.
Legolas had blamed him alone for that crack that crept between them, but now he could see it wasn't true.
The anger given by the misunderstanding had been the reason why Legolas had rejected him.
He too had grown cold, worrying about seeking his father only for military or political reasons.
He stroked his head, fondly remembering when he was allowed to comb that golden cascade, so similar to his own, purposely avoiding the cold crown.
"Melin le!" (I love you!) he whispered hoarsely, before holding him close again.
"Im melithon le an i uir!" (I will love you for eternity!) He screamed feeling an unbridgeable emptiness growing in his chest.
He pulled him up again, squeezing him hard, more than he'd ever allowed himself to use in their rare hugs.
Letting him go would have been a second betrayal, it would have made it all absurdly real...
He couldn't leave him after what she had done to him!
A noise startled him and he looked around alertly. He was still tried by the next fight. There wasn't much he could have done to protect what remained of the person he loved most in life, only to realize it when it was too late...
It happened again and Legolas was even more frightened realizing that those verses came from the King.
They were so faint and painful that he believed they had been carried by the wind from a distant place, into the valley, which only amplified them.
Hope flared in the Prince's chest and with difficulty, he moved.
He laid his father on his back, being very careful to move him slowly, accompanying his head with care.
He put his ear back on his chest forcing himself to remain calm, concentrating deeply. Irritation and fear made him tightly squeeze the shoulder of the sovereign on which a hand was resting, but he woke up almost immediately and with a big sigh, he blocked all thoughts, sharpening the senses to the maximum.
There he is!
A faint, barely audible and not constant noise, but his heart was still fighting.
The breaths were quick, shallow and irregular, but he was alive!
Legolas stood up, sobbing, and thanking the Valar, brought his face close to that of his parent, kissing him on the forehead.
Only his father would have been able to survive such a fall!
The relief did not last long. Horrifying verses announced the presence of other orcs causing the Prince to jump, who tensed, ready for battle.
No one would harm the King!
He started to get up, but the pain in his leg brought him back to reality, reminding him that he too was in danger, but he was the only one who could make a difference.
Despite the risk, Legolas was aware that his father would die if they stayed there.
Thranduil's life depended on him!
Thanks to everyone for the flood of compliments and comments that helped me get started with an update!
I know it's been a long time, but being a flash idea I was afraid that the story would be at a standstill for much longer!
Legolas is full of guilt, but it's not over yet! What do you think can happen? Will the two be able to get away with it?
Good question!
Write your ideas in the comments please that for the moment I'm more anxious than you!
X-98