Gandalf had arrived and left after interrogating Gollum, and that was about the most news that occurred in the Mirkwood Realm. It had been relatively peaceful and Thranduil dozed off on his throne, dreaming of the past. His son was grown up and he wondered if Legolas's mother was watching over him when his son came bursting in to the throne room with a terrified prison guard.

Instantly, the prison guard threw himself at the somewhat surprised Elven king's feet, crying, "Please forgive me, your highness! I let that horrible little creature escape from one of the cells! Please, I beg mercy!"

Legolas appeared disgusted but he knelt down and said in a deadly serious tone, "Father, I am sorry to disappoint you. Gollum managed to escape and we must immediately begin searching. He could not have gone far."

Thranduil groaned but ordered for a patrol to hunt down the escapee. The elves hurriedly sprinted off. Thranduil then ordered the useless prison guard to go find something useful to do, warning him that he had better start taking his job seriously. When the guard disappeared from sight, Thranduil faced his son, who stared up at him questioningly, as if waiting for his command.

"Should we not report this to Gandalf?" Legolas asked.

"I suppose so. Cíldir, please retrieve for me an ink brush and formal paper," Thranduil called, waving at a nearby elf. The elf nodded respectfully and went off to perform his duty. Thranduil turned back to Legolas, remarking, "This is tiring, you know."

Legolas was about to say something when he was interrupted by the speedy arrival of Cíldir, carrying exactly what was asked of him. Thranduil took them and carefully composed a sorry letter to Gandalf for letting Gollum escape. Not that he really cared much but he had a feeling it was a good idea to let Gandalf know. After all, the old wizard had spent hours trying to wrest information from the "small vile animal."

"Should I send forth a messenger?" Legolas inquired as his father meticulously lettered his words. The Elven king looked up past him and Legolas turned his head. A messenger for them had arrived.

"Let me see," Thranduil said, opening the letter precisely so that it wasn't ripped jaggedly. Legolas rolled his eyes mentally; his father had to be perfect with everything to the point that Legolas couldn't help but hope he didn't inherit this annoying habit. Legolas could only recall moments when he disturbed his father's things. "No, put that goblet back. It belongs in that exact spot." "Don't touch that! You messed the papers up! They must be neatly stacked, perfectly so not one page sticks out." "Leave my pillow alone! Yes, it is mine because technically what is yours is also mine. You're my son! Stop sitting on it!"

Thranduil scanned the contents of the newly obtained letter. His brows furrowed and his lips puckered. Legolas was curious.

"What is it, father?"

Thranduil tossed aside the letter and Cíldir rushed forward to catch it before it fell to the ground. Thranduil "hmphed" and said to his son, "I have a mission for you. Please travel to Rivendell with my report. I'd like you to go there as our representative."

Legolas was slightly bewildered. He hadn't travelled much, only carrying out some smaller errands his father had ordered. But Rivendell was rather far away and his father tended not to send him on urgent errands. "Um, okay. I understand, father."

Thranduil smiled as he handed Legolas the report. "I know that this letter will be safe in your hands. You are my son and you have proven yourself very worthy so far. Now go prepare and meet me in front of the gates so I can see you off."

Quickly, Legolas bounded away, holding the letter so it wouldn't get crushed. Shortly, he got all the things he needed packed, not forgetting his bow or his dual knives. He hid the knives in his garment and headed over to the gate of the castle.

As promised, Thranduil was waiting for him. Legolas shouldered his pack full of nifty things, food, and whatever else he had decided to bring as he walked closer.

When Legolas stood right in front of his father, Thranduil realized that his son was almost as tall as him. Their eyes practically met eye to eye. He felt nostalgic and extremely old (though elves lived for a very long time, he felt as old as the oldest elf). The Elven king placed his hand on Legolas's shoulder, not knowing what to say before his departure.

He finally managed to say, with a few tears welling in his eyes, "Good luck, Legolas, my son, and travel safely. May the stars watch over you and shine on your path."

Legolas grinned, feeling excited but a little remorseful for leaving his home and father for a long time. "You too, father. Stay well while I'm gone."

Thranduil nodded slowly. It was time to leave. "I'll miss you, my son. Come back home safe and sound," Thranduil said.

Legolas nodded tersely and quickly left, embarking on his long journey. Thranduil watched for a long time until Legolas was just a teeny tiny speck that at last, disappeared. The Elven king sighed with a strange feeling that he would not see his son in a long while.