A/N: I love hearing from my readers! Constructive criticism is wonderful. Thank you for reading!

50 years later

"Naneth, may I join you today?" Legolas asked, confident in his sword-fighting capabilities, which were now almost as good as his father's had been.

She frowned at the elf who looked enough like his Ada to break her heart. "We go through this every day. The answer is still no."

"But Naneth," he started, silenced with a glare.

"You are needed to run the kingdom. Stay here and attend your studies. I love you too much to be able to bear losing you also, Ionnîn."

"Yes, Naneth. Be careful," he warned, hugging her.

She gave him a grim smile before returning the embrace and exiting with her faithful companion, Lord Fairion.

However, the evening wore on and Legolas kept careful watch on the paths. His mother had never been this late before. Then he spotted a lone figure in the distance and ran out to meet it. "Lord Fairion, where is Naneth?"

The second-in-command limped into the palace, helped by the Elvenprince. "I…I am sorry. I lost her. I twisted my ankle and she insisted I return, assuring me she would go just a little farther before coming back. I expected her to beat me here."

"No! Tell me everything," Legolas commanded as they made their way to the healers.

Fairion obliged and they discussed matters as the healers bound his ankle, the high ones' faces grim.

An elf appeared in the doorway. "Prince Legolas, Lord Fairion, you are needed at the gates," he requested.

Giving each other puzzled looks, they hurried back as fast as they could without causing further injury to Fairion's bad ankle.

Radagast and a handsome flaxen-haired elf stood in the doorway. "Legolas, Ionnîn," the elf exclaimed, smiling.

"A…Ada?" Before he knew it, the prince became caught in a warm embrace.

A tear shone in the Elvenking' right eye as he beheld his adult son. "You have grown. You take after your Naneth."

"Thank you. Naneth, where is she?"

Wizard and Elf King exchanged a look. "Come to the healers with us," Thranduil commanded, his face hard, determined, more worn than Legolas recalled. "You as well, Fairion."

They made their way back to the healing wing of the palace and had Legolas sit. Radagast took his hands in his own and began chanting. Legolas stared into his eyes, which were glazed-over, and found his own shutting against his will. Five minutes later, a soft snore escaped his lips as he moved into a deep sleep, more like a human than an elf.

"Lay him on a bed," the Elvenking ordered. "He will wake in a few hours."

Fairion frowned. "King Thranduil, do you mind explaining?"

"Come to the throne room and take counsel with me."

Once more befuddled, the sandy-haired elf obeyed and they gathered around the Elvenking's throne, he looking as at home and in place as ever. Even in his tattered clothes, he retained his regal, powerful aura. "Lord Fairion, why did you leave my wife alone in the forest?"

"I did not want to separate from her, your Majesty. I sprained my ankle and she insisted I return to the palace while she went on a bit farther."

A dark look crossed Thranduil's hard face. "I will not blame you for what happened, melonnîn."

"What…happened? What do you mean?"

"My wife is dead." The cold, hard truth rolled off his tongue, a metallic clink in the thick air, his tone harsh and unfeeling.

Fairion gasped. "How?"

"That foul beast, Haurog. But he shall slay no more elves. May Mandos torture him in eternal flame forever!"

"No! Please, I need to know the whole story."

"Yes. Have some refreshments sent in."

He did so and the threesome sat down to the gruesome tale.