Thranduil roamed slowly and quietly through the majestic halls of his resplendent castle. Not even the tap of his footsteps could be heard. The Elven king needed some peace and quiet to calm the churning thoughts in his mind. There had been orc incursions near the Mirkwood borders, each time increasing in number and he was worried. Just then, the sound of metal clanging on metal was heard and Thranduil glanced out the tall glass windows.
His son, Legolas, was sparring with another elf, one of the soldiers no doubt. Plastered on his face was grim determination. Though Legolas preferred to use his bow as his weapon, learning the sword was important in case of close combat. He used dual knives with deadly speed, each time perfectly parrying the blows of his opponent.
Thranduil, seeing this duel as sort of intriguing, sat on the window ledge and watched his son switch to the offensive. A small crowd sitting around them watched too.
"Ha!" Legolas growled as he expertly maneuvered a feint before swinging his knives around and landing a blow. The opponent staggered and cried out in pain. Then, with a sharp twist, Legolas knocked the sword out of his hands. It dropped to the ground with a resounding clang.
An elf stood up from among the crowd and clapped. Legolas smiled and thanked him, and turned back to his opponent on the floor. He bowed and thanked the elf for sparring with him. The Prince of the Woodland Realm reached out a hand and the opponent grabbed it appreciatively. The other elves began to clap, praising them both.
Thranduil curled his lips into a thoughtful smile, musing that his son's swordsmanship was much better than he had thought. It had been a long time since he had spent time with him, being very busy, especially recently. The Elven king desired to see his son later, and soon resumed his path of roaming the castle halls.
Legolas sighed in fatigue, washing his face with cold, refreshing water. He peeled his light armor off and changed into a feathery and airy tunic. He proceeded to join his father for dinner, at the Elven king's request (a word from a messenger).
"Legolas, my son, welcome and sit," said Thranduil, waving his hands in the air with a flourish, when Legolas opened the enormous oak doors of the banquet hall and peered inside.
Legolas padded to a seat from all the way across his father and was about to sit down when his father said, "Come sit closer." With a sigh, he obeyed.
Thranduil sighed as well, for it felt awkward for father and son to be together after a long time. Not only that, the Prince was older now and wished to spend more time with his friends instead of his "eccentric old man."
"I watched your sparring earlier this afternoon. It was splendid. You make me proud, Legolas," Thranduil complimented in between bites.
Legolas's ears pinked at his father's approval. So rarely had he been praised by the Elven king, who was always occupied with loads of work. The king had to sign documents, protect the citizens, and ensure the peace in the realm was kept. "Thank you, father," He murmured at last, picking at his dinner and then stabbing at a piece of roasted meat and nibbling on it.
There was moment of delicate silence as the father and son chewed on their food. At last, breaking the silence, Thranduil casually asked, "Do you wish to join the border patrols?"
In response, Legolas jerked up his head to stare in wonder at the Elven king, open-mouthed. Since forever, the Prince hoped one day to be part of a patrol or regiment but the couple times he had talked with his father ended in refusals, with reasons that the Prince was too young. Too young! Legolas had thought with irritation, I'm no longer a child!
"I see you would very much like it. Hmm…very well, I will assign you to one of them. If you work hard enough, you may see the fruits of your labor, and this I've seen and have duly rewarded."
The Prince thanked him, brimming with excitement at the prospect of finally becoming a soldier and being with them. He had long tired of simply hunting and walking around in the forest he knew so well that he could close his eyes and find his way around.
For the rest of the evening, the Elven king and his son chatted, with stories of old times and news of the going-ons in the castle exchanged. Thranduil raised his goblet in toast and Legolas clinked his goblet against his. Father and son acted as if they had never spent time apart, and as if they had all the time in the world to be in each other's company.
Today passed and tomorrow would be another day.