A man and a woman stood together, window shopping. The lady held the hand of a young boy around the age of five with huge blue-grey eyes.
Young Legolas spotted a Hot Wheels stall across the street and tugged at his mother's hand eagerly, hoping to get her attention. Ithilwen answered distractedly with a simple reassurance that he'll get a gift, her attention fixed on her husband.
The family had decided to go on a shopping spree after Thranduil got a huge promotion. Right now, said male was trying to persuade his wife to buy the stunning sequin dress. Ithilwen refused, stating the price was too high, but to be honest, anyone can tell she wanted it.
Legolas pouted slightly at the lack of attention, eyes fixating on the toy cars. He flung away his mother's hand without thinking and raced across the street.
Ithilwen noticed this. Crying out his name, she followed in pursuit.
Thranduil turned, just in time to see it happen. His wife fell.
Thranduil sank to his knees next to Ithilwen, barely noticing the commotion around him. The yelling, confusion, cars honking… He barely registered the driver getting out of the car and calling the police. 'No, stay with me Ithilwen. I need you here.' He whispered, taking hold of his wife's hand.
Ithilwen smiled sadly, breathing ragged. 'Is… is Legolas alright?' Without waiting for an answer, she continued, 'Take care of him. He will not know what happened.' Thranduil clutched her hand tightly, 'Don't go. Not yet.'
Rosie held the fair-haired child in her arms, her heart breaking at the scene unfolding before her. It was such a fine day. Did this really had to happen?
'Why's mama on the ground? Is she asleep?' A soft voice interrupted her train of thoughts. 'Yes,' she replied, voice cracking, 'Yes, your mother's sleeping.'
Thranduil unclasped the diamond necklace around Ithilwen's neck at her request. Instead of a ring, this was what he presented to her when he proposed. The ambulance arrived and took Ithilwen to the hospital. Thranduil didn't go. In his heart he knew she was beyond help now, but he could still hope.
Thranduil went over to the stall. The salesclerk set his son on the ground, eyes expressing pity. He gave the lady a swift nod of thanks, then turned to the child.
Legolas stared up at his father imploringly, confused. Thranduil's eyes became cold. A feeling stung him. Anger? 'Come, Legolas. We're going home.' His voice came out harsher than he had intended, but he didn't allow himself to wince.
There was no conversation between the father and son on the journey home. Legolas's head was lowered, as if he had caught on to what had happened. But of course he hasn't, thought Thranduil bitterly. Of course he hasn't.
Word came to Thranduil swiftly that his wife had passed away. After tucking Legolas in, he had gone to the hospital, where he was informed of the occurrence. Few tears were wept at the funeral, both father and son buried in pain and grief, the latter fully comprehending the situation at an older age.
For the next few months, Thranduil buried himself in work, and asked Gandalf Greyhame, a friend and a vice-headmaster in a nearby secondary school, to take care of Legolas. Deep inside he knew he should be spending more time with his son, but he convinced himself he was doing it for Legolas.
One day as Thranduil was preparing to leave for work, Gandalf said, 'Your wife left you a child, Thranduil. Would she want you to help your son in the road of growth, or provide him with materialistic pleasure? And the necklace you hold onto so dearly these days. Would Ithilwen have you treasure that, or your son? ' Thranduil stared at the wizened man, dumbstruck. Gandalf closed the door, saying quietly, 'Good day.'
Thranduil dragged his weary body back to his house that night. Changing into his pyjamas, he quickly collapsed onto his bed and sleep took him.
In his dreams, a voice called out to him. 'Father.' He recognized it as his son's, but it was deeper, stronger. Older.
'Legolas,' Thranduil replied. Then he realized he could not see anything, or else he was shrouded in murky darkness. 'Where are we, Legolas?' There was no reply. 'Greenleaf?' 'I am fine, father.' This time his voice was further away and distant.
'Where are you? Give me a sign, please.' Thranduil begged. A few moments, then, 'It is safe.' 'What is?' 'Mother's necklace.' So faint. 'No,' answered the man. 'I don't care about that.' And he meant it. 'I want you safe, Greenleaf. Are you here?' He asked cautiously.
No reply. 'Legolas?' Thranduil felt terror growing in his chest. 'Legolas!' Gandalf's voice resounded in the darkness. Would Ithilwen have you treasure that, or your son?
A small hand jolted him out of his dreams. Wide blue eyes stared into his. 'I'm scared, papa. The thunder's so loud.' Thranduil's breathing steadied and his mind grew clearer. 'I'm here, Greenleaf,' He whispered as he gathered his son into his arms and drew the blankets over them both. 'I'm here.'
Legolas's body sank into his embrace as he fell asleep once more. 'I'll treasure you always,' Thranduil breathed. 'Always.'
Secondary school: somewhere around middle school to high school
Edit 3/3/2017: I just realized the line breaks I made in Word can't show here. Just added them.
