A/N: Second offering here – do drop me a one liner and let me know what you think. The third fic will be posted up tomorrow :)

Legolas smiled as he took his seat at the table in the Royals' private dining room. He was exceptionally happy and not just because one of his favourite lunchtime meals – seared steak coated in Avari spices, chargrilled broccoli and buttery soft mashed potatoes – graced their plates. This pleased him but nay, the true reason the blonde Prince was happy was because for the first time since he had become a fully-fledged maethron he would be leaving on patrol at the same time as his big sister Crown Princess Rithel.

Twas a moment Legolas had longed for throughout his elflinghood; long had he admired his warrior sister and had yearned to join her when she marched out proudly to protect and serve. He had pleaded and begged when younger for Rithel to let him accompany her then, as he grew older, he watched her depart with a prayer to the Valar on his lips and a determination in his heart to try even harder at his novice warrior training so that he might join her all the quicker.

Now at long last the time had come. Both he and Rithel were to depart for their respective patrols this very afternoon. Legolas felt a sense of accomplishment hard won. He was finally going to march out of barracks alongside his gwathel and he could hardly contain the sense of pride and happiness he felt as they tucked in.

As had become the Royal household's tradition they had gathered for a 'last meal' – it was always taken with all of them together - their Kingly Adar making time in his hectic schedule to ensure he could be there to partake, to share jokes, to give advice and blessings, to intone prayers and well wishes. It was a tradition that lent strength to the one departing (up until now always Rithel) and gave comfort to the ones remaining (thus far Legolas and Thranduil). Rithel would always give them the outlines of her patrol – which one she would be undertaking and any objectives that she was at liberty to talk about.

Such descriptions had always given the younger palace bound Prince wanderlust and increased determination to one day make his own such declarations. And now for the first time ever in this long held tradition of theirs Rithel ceased in speaking of her own patrol – the North Western one that guarded and overlooked the Forest Gate and their border with the Great River of Wilderland – and Thranduil turned to him.

"And what of you Legolas? What of your own patrol?"

Legolas felt as though his face would split in half with the size of his grin and his pride in this moment. "My troop and I have been assigned the Southern Patrol."

~o~

Thranduil forced an easy, confident smile to his face and was sure to hold back the worry and the fear that tried to shine in his eyes. The Southern Patrol…already? That is what the Elven King wanted to say but he did not wish to offer insult nor stir feelings of insecurity. Not here, not now at this 'last meal' rite in which they partook. They never let strife enter this room nor their bond on the eve of departure and Thranduil was not about to see that changed now.

So instead of the worried questions that wanted to push themselves past his teeth Thranduil made sure only his pride in Legolas shone through and forced out different words instead.

"The Southern Patrol? Then I entreat all the Valar to go with and before you. That they shall help you and your troop return well and triumphant. And you Las-nin I entreat to use your senses well -" at Legolas' frowning, indignant, slightly hurt face Thranduil held up a hand. "I do not say this to insult you but only for your own wellbeing. For the Southern Patrol has much changed since my time, changed for the worse - there is much evil and treachery afoot there now. Of course, Rithel can tell you more of it than I but I do bid you keep your senses sharp and be ready at all times. That patrol is nothing if not trying."

Thranduil let his serious demeanour drop and smiled again proudly at his son, "Still, despite its trial's I know you shall do well."

~o~

Rithel too felt her heart seemingly take a jolt at Legolas' disclosure. The Southern Patrol. Such green warriors were rarely ever sent there so soon after their entrance ceremonies – after all Legolas had been a fully-fledged maethron for a scant seven months and had only been on two patrols thus far. It was a shock to hear he'd already been assigned to the Wood's toughest patrol though Rithel realised she ought not to have been that surprised.

Though Legolas had been assigned to a troop in the Standard Forces as all new warriors were, because he'd been top of his class he'd been assigned to a troop who were already well on their way to being promoted to the ranks of the Elite Guard. As such they would of course receive harder missions; Crown Commander Aglardaer assigned his patrols and missions by way of overall troop skill.

There was nothing for it; nothing to be done but to make sure Legolas left with the best preparation possible, left knowing he was loved and that they believed in him. Such knowledge could make all the difference later on.

Catching onto their Adar's actions Rithel too forced the misgivings away from her face and voice and nodded genially, picking up from where Thranduil left off.

"You will do well Las, there is no doubt of that but do heed Adar's words. The Southern Patrol is unlike any other. You know well it has been cut from a standard three month patrol to being only a two month one."

Her tithen gwanûr nodded, "Yes, due to the strain of battling the effects of the dark miasma that lies over that part of the Wood."

"Yes, the Enchantments of the Dark One and his minions hang heavy in the air, its poison will do its utmost to work its way slowly into your mind. You must resist it with all that you have. Should you feel yourself wanting to give in to doubt and despair you must let your Captain know."

Rithel speared some broccoli and chewed slowly before she spoke again. "Keeping your weapons in top condition – especially ones such as battle salvaged arrows must be a top priority. You will face nigh daily skirmishes when on Southern Patrol and you need to be confident your weapons will aid rather than hinder you."

Rithel sifted through her large memory of times on the Southern Patrol for what might be useful for a first timer without paralysing them with fear. "The trees in the South are corrupted and will be deaf to any calls for aid; orcs, wargs and the spawn of Ungoliant are especially numerous and you must never, ever go near Dol Guldur. Not ever."

Legolas nodded eyes wide, "We have been briefed on Dol Guldur and I know what to do should anything…untoward happen."

Rithel watched her baby brother's fingers skitter nervously up to a necklace with a simple charm all were made to wear when undertaking the Southern Patrol. A quick push of a hidden button on the charm would cause a pin coated in poison to be revealed. The poison was powerful and it would be only a matter of a seconds to a minute before anything the Enemy or his minions wished to do to a captive elf would matter no longer.

Rithel directed her eyes away from the charm and forced a smile instead. This tradition of theirs was to infuse them all with light and strength – there had been enough talk of the Dark.

"Harthon gerithach lend vaer," Rithel smiled, "In fact I am sure your journey shall be well. You and your fellow maethyr are well skilled and well prepared – it will be well. And I shall take exceptional pride in riding out together with you for the first time."

~o~

Legolas smiled to hear and see the confidence both his Adar and gwathel had in him. He knew they were worried of course, the Southern Patrol did strike fear and nervousness into the heart of many an elf, but to see them put their worry aside to instead encourage and express their faith in him… well, Legolas was sure if he felt any more proud he'd burst.

The servants would soon bring dessert and then their meal would be over. Thranduil would escort them both to barracks and this time he would be the only one who stayed behind and waved.

After years of hard work and perseverance on Legolas' part this tradition of theirs had now changed forever.

And the proud heritage of the warriors of the House of Oropher lived on afresh.

END.

Maethron / Maethyr – Warrior / Warriors (plural)

Gwathel – Sister

Adar – Father

Las-nin – My Leaf

Tithen Gwanûr – Little Brother

Harthon gerithach lend vaer - I hope you will have a good journey