Days went by quickly. Autumn began to give way to a snowy winter. White, big snowflakes were swirling in the air and falling on the trees growing in the Woodland Realm. Only one cave in the forest was left untouched by the cold gusts and blinding whiteness. The only visible sign that there was a change of the seasons was the change in the garb of Elvenking. On his head one could see a silvery-white crown which looked like icicles enlaced in leaves of winter ivy. Autumn robes turned into a beautiful, silver clothes with patterns which looked like sparkling snowflakes and green coat was replaced by coat lined with warm, white fur.
''Sire?'', Legolas' cheerful voice ringed in the air. Elf ran down the stairs and quickly put the distance between him and the king.
Thranduil turned away from the window and looked critically at his son. When he saw that there was a black streak of crushed coal on his cheek, he gently wiped it off with his thumb.
''By the gods, you look awful!'', he said. When Legolas lowered his eyes, he sighed. ''How many more times does your dwarf friend plan to take you with him to the underground passages?''
''I do not know, but I have nothing against it. Walking in the underground is interesting .''
King didn't like this answer. He didn't want his son to be a troublemaker eager for dirty adventures.
''What is so fascinating about crawling through the muddy passages?''
''And what is so interesting about sitting in a palace and not doing anything that makes sense?'', asked Legolas. However, after a few seconds he realized that he crossed the border which son shouldn't ever cross in relation with his father. ''I am sorry. I did not want to…''
Thranduil raised his hand.
''No, you are right. There is nothing interesting about it.'', he said. There was a barely audible hint of bitterness in his voice. He turned back to the window and looked at the two figures standing in the palace's garden. Legolas looked out the window too. He didn't really know what to say. This situation, situation in which he found himself, seemed strange to him. He cleared his throat and changed the topic:
''Isn't lady Arwen beautiful? She resembles my mother. She had the same smile.''
Elvenking flinched at the memory of his wife. Although many years have passed since her death, he still couldn't shake off a strange emptiness which filled his heart. He loved her so much.
''Yes, indeed, she is.'', he said. ''But your mother… she was the most beautiful woman in the Middle-earth.''
Legolas smiled.
''Of course.''
''No one can ever replace her...'', quiet words which came from lips of the king were filled with pain. His eyes fixed on the Aragorn. This man... intrigued him. Though Thranduil met him some time ago, when Dúnadan was not a king, but only a Ranger who brought Gollum to the elves, he had an impression that he didn't know anything about this man - that since those days something have changed in Aragorn's behavior.
''Father… If I may say something – you should change the way you think about it. It has been so many years since mother have died... Look around us. There are many beautiful, intelligent women who would be ideal candidates to fight for your heart. Don't you think that it has been a long time since...'', Legolas bit his tongue. ''Don't you think it has been a long time since you had any woman?'' – it was a question that could ruin everything; luckily he could stop himself just in time.
Thranduil's eyes narrowed.
''Stop this nonsense, Legolas! You know that I would rather live thousand years in celibacy than touch a woman other than your mother!'', he said.
In normal situation, Legolas would probably laugh hearing the word ''celibacy''. But at that time, he wasn't amused at all. His father behaved like an old man whose strength, intellect and young appearance were taken away. He was just like an empty shell, incapable of any pleasure. It was annoying Legolas so much. The person who stood in front of him wasn't a graybeard but a beautiful, young - looking man at his mental and physical prime; man who should enjoy his life and praise the gods for their decision to give the elves the possibility of eternal life.
Legolas let out a quiet sigh.
''Very well. Let us leave this topic.'', he said. ''I did not want to talk about mother and romances.''
''Well… then say what you wanted to say. '', you could hear an impatience in Elvenking's voice. He raised his head and watched his son.
''I thought… maybe we should go hunting? It has been a long time since we were together in the forest. I've heard that enraged bear is prowling near the Grotto. Some of our archers saw him eating the deer.''
Legolas looked at his father's face. He knew that deers were his soft spot. He loved them just like parents love their children. Prince hoped that information about bear would pull Thranduil away from the thoughts which seemed to really bother him.
Elvenking closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Three weeks ago he really wanted his son's attention but then… well, situation has changed. He got used to the fact that his child was spending most of the time with Aragorn and Gimli - you can say that the pain in his heart was partially replaced by indifference and discouragement.
''Did I not make myself clear, my son? I appreciate your efforts but none of your suggestions, none of your words will suddenly make me happy.''
Legolas stared at his father in disbelief.
''Really, do you think I am a fool? I can see where this is going, my dear. Please, stop it. Everyone needs to know when their time is over. My turn came some time ago.''
And with these words, Thranduil came to the conclusion that conversation with his son is over. He turned around, his robes rustled. He started to walk away in an elegant, majestic stride and soon he disappeared from Legolas' sight.
Noise that was heard in the throne room made everyone, including Thranduil, raised their heads. The large, wooden door opened with a bang and a panting, pale scout rushed into the chamber. His brown, light armor was stained with blood. Two guards were following him. They had worried faces.
''L-lord! Some…thing awful hap-pened!'', gasped scout. He stood in the middle of the room and for a moment he tried to catch his breath. All the elves who gathered in the room were watching the situation with great concern. Aragorn, who was standing near one of the monumental columns, frowned. When the scout finally absorbed enough oxygen, he straightened up, leaning on the arm of one of the guards. That moment everyone noticed that there was a black arrowhead of a broken arrow stuck in the scout's flesh. Loud groan of shock was heard in the chamber. Thranduil quickly stood up from his throne and approached the elf.
''We found him near the entrance to the Grotto. He was lying on the ground beside his horse. Judging from his condition, he did not have the strength to get up. We wanted to take him to the herbalist, but he refused saying that he must see you immediately, sir.'', said guard with black eyes when Thranduil gave him a quick, questioning look.
Scout groaned and wobbled. He didn't fall only thanks to quick reaction of the second guard.
''Y-your Highness! There is…no… time to lose! O…rcs! Orcs are attacking!'', shouted scout. He was quickly losing his strength. He placed his hand on the wound; his sickly pale face twisted in a grimace of pain.
This time, in the room, one could hear cries of terror. Everything turned into general chaos. Everyone started to panic. Some of the elves clutched their heads in disbelief, while others ran out of the room to announce their families the terrible message. Only Aragorn was standing in the same place. He was looking at Thranduil with curiosity and he was waiting for his reaction.
King of the elves shivered.
''Silent!'', he yelled. His powerful voice bounced off the walls. Suddenly, everyone stopped panicking and went silent. They turned their eyes to the king. No one dared to make a sound. ''Orcs? That is impossible! No one has seen them since the war!''
Scout coughed. A trickle of blood flowed from a corner of his mouth. Thranduil felt an unpleasant twinge in his heart. He didn't know if it was an anxiety caused by the unexpected news or the concern for his subject.
''But it is true, m-my lord! There are… over five hundred of them... only a few miles from palace! T-they appeared out of nowhere… a…and killed m-my squad!'', stammered scout. He sank to his knees. Guard wasn't able to support him any longer. ''We must… arm ourselves for… a battle, sir!''
Scout slowly sat down on the ground and after a few seconds, grimacing, moaning and spitting blood, he fell on his back. He turned his head toward his king.
''Si... re, ple..ase, before… I die… I want to… see beauty.'', he stretched out his hand in the direction of Thranduil. Guards looked at Elvenking with sadness and confusion.
Ruler walked up to wounded man and crouched. His hand delicately brushed away a strand of hair which fell in elf's sweaty, feverish forehead. Scout smiled.
''Please...'', he whispered. Thranduil seemed to know what the dying man was asking for. He opened his hand, looked at it sadly, and then he articulated a few barely audible words. Suddenly, his hand started to glow with bright light which quickly began to take some shape. When the luminosity was gone, a fantastic view appeared before the eyes of all astonished observers - a beautiful, big butterfly with colorful, shining wings. Insect fluttered its wings and flew down on scout's chest. Man's lips curled into a slight, painful smile.
''Thank you… '', he whispered with tears in his eyes. After a few seconds, clear madness appeared on his face. ''Orcs! They…'', he said in agony. Unfortunately, he didn't end his sentence. His irises went hazy.
Thranduil sighed and closed eyes of a dead man.
''Esta e'seere.'', he said. All of a sudden, someone placed hand on his forearm. King of the elves raised his eyes and saw Aragorn, who was smiling sadly but comfortingly. Two guards behind his back had sceptical faces.
''I will see if this news is true.'', said king of Gondor. ''If you do not mind, sir, I would like to take with me some of your guards.''
Elvenking nodded. Aragorn gently, almost imperceptibly ran his fingers across Thranduil's skin. King of the elves frowned and pulled his hand away. Stunned Dúnadan stood up, bowed his head stiffly, and left the throne room.
For a moment, Thranduil looked at the face of the deceased. Magic butterfly flew into the air and then sat down on the emerald ring, a gift from the king of Gondor. For a few seconds, the creation looked at Thranduil. After that it flapped its colorful wings and melted into the air. Suddenly, the king of the elves felt a strange, disquieting emptiness in his heart - as if someone has taken away from him something he desired; something he couldn't have…
