Chapter 6

King Thranduil was seated on his throne; a guard had announced the return of the elves that he had sent out for Rivendell with Prince Legolas two months ago. After reporting that they were crossing the bridge, Thranduil dismissed the guard with a slight wave of his hand. He was glad to have his son back home. Many knew how the King treasured his only child; the Prince was the only one who could melt the ice that surrounded the King's heart. Thranduil cherished his son above all else and he constantly worried about him when he went off on quests.

After the death of the Queen, Thranduil had fallen into deep despair. He had fallen so deep that it had threatened to consume him. Unlike the other races of Middle Earth, elves could die from grief.

Legolas was only a child at the time, he had just learned how to shoot his first bow and was also learning how to wield a blade, it was a wooden one at the time for he was still so young and inexperienced.

Thranduil remembers that fateful day very clearly, though he tries not to think about it, the pain was still there lurking in the shadows ready to consume him should he let his thoughts linger on it for too long. That is the reason why he never spoke of Legolas' mother.

Thranduil had locked himself in the chambers his wife and he had once shared. The smell of her long blonde hair had still lingered on her pillow. After many weeks of grief and anger, and bottles of wine, the King had become numb. He had given up on living, he was fading.

Legolas had begun to think he had lost not one parent, but both. Legolas devoted himself to caring for his father. His father did not eat, did not sleep, and did not speak. The king stared into empty space with a dead look in his eyes. Legolas never forgot how close he came to losing his father during that tragic time. After a while, and many desperate pleas from his son, Thranduil obliged and began to let Legolas care for him. Together, they were able to heal each other and build their life back up. It was a slow process, but eventually Thranduil was able to take control of his grief and be a father and a king.

One of his trusted council members, Feren, approached the throne. With growing concern, Thranduil wondered why it was not Legolas giving the report as it was his duty. "Feren, you come in my son's stead to deliver the report from Rivendell. Tell me, why is it that my son cannot deliver it himself?"

Feren casted his eyes to the floor, he tried to keep his nerves under control. The news he brought would surely displease the king. Feren extremely disliked having to be the one to deliver the news; he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "My king," Feren paused, his voice betrayed his nervousness, "Prince Legolas has not returned with the rest us. He remained in Rivendell and gave me instruction to deliver this letter to you." With trembling hands, Feren pulled the letter from his pocket.

Thranduil descended his throne and snatched the letter from Feren. It was sealed with the stamp from Rivendell. With a wave of his hand, Thranduil dismissed Feren and the other council members. Once they exited, Thranduil carefully opened the letter and read:

Dear Ada,

Feren has promised to deliver this letter since I will not be returning home as soon as I expected. I realize it is pointless to request, but please do not worry for me. I am a part of a company that is setting out to destroy the evil that is threatening our home, middle earth. The source of this evil has fallen into the unlikeliest of hands, a hobbit! They are very fascinating creatures, not unlike human children. There are four of them in our company along with a dwarf. The dwarf is the relative of the late Thorin Oakenshield, it seems he holds a grudge against me for our treatment of his kin. Mithrandir was not pleased upon receiving the news of Gollum's escape; however it seems he is not too concerned with the creature anymore. Mithrandir is also a part of our company, I am glad for it as he is our old friend and a powerful ally should we encounter danger. Also with us is a man from Gondor, son the steward. He seems rather resentful of Aragorn. This source of evil concerns Aragorn greatly, as a result he is also a part of our company. Our many adventures together cannot compare to what awaits us on this journey, I am glad for his trusted companionship. Tauriel is also a part of this company, though I do not doubt her determination and skill, I am beginning to wonder if she had joined the company out of loyalty to me as a dear friend and captain. It is a comfort to have her as a part of the company; for I know I can rely and trust her in times of peril. We are the ten walkers, each of us representing the free peoples of middle earth. Though our company may be small, it is ideal for speed and covertness.

I cannot promise you that I will return home. If I should die during this war, know that I was always proud to be your son. I am sorry that this is the way I must bid you farewell, it pains me to think of how upset you must be. If I can make one last request Ada, if I should die, do not allow yourself to fade. Should this come to pass, I will not be there to retrieve you from the clutches of despair.

It is my dearest wish that I will be able to return home to see our forest healing, to see Greenwood the Great restored to its former glory. I have no words to tell you how much I love you. Those words are so easy to write but I am sorry, I find I do not have the strength in my heart to tell you goodbye. One promise I will give you, is that I will never stop fighting until the evil is destroyed and the enemy is defeated. Only then can I return to you.

You are forever in my heart, Ada.

Your son,

Legolas

The letter in the Kings hand fell to the floor. Fear and panic gripped the father's heart. He sank to his knees, the letter lay before him. It was not often the Elven King expressed his emotions so out in the open. But that didn't matter to him right now. In that moment, all he could think about was his son. His child, his only child was in danger on a perilous quest, with no promise of returning home.

The Elven King may appear arrogant and sometimes selfish in his decisions to remain out of the affairs of other realms, choosing that of an isolationist role; his concern being Mirkwood, and Mirkwood alone. His son, the Prince was the exact opposite. Thranduil shouldn't be surprised Legolas joined a quest to save all the realms of middle earth. It was the fear of his son not returning home and falling victim in battle that terrified the king. His son had stepped out of the safety of his kingdom, beyond Thranduil's control. There would be nothing to save him should his son need saving. The King had never felt so powerless.

Tears that he had been fighting suddenly flowed down his face. His hands were shaking, he couldn't control his breathing. The letter still lay before him, its words still fresh in his mind, 'I cannot promise you that I will return home…' His son may never return home to walk beneath the trees, to gaze at the starlight, to defend his home, to be the joyful prince that was loved and cherished by all.

"Legolas…what have you done?" the King whispered into the empty throne room. There was nobody around to hear or see him. He was alone. That is how it shall be should his son perish. He'll be forever alone.

Thranduil remembers the night Legolas was born. It was one of the most terrifying and happiest memories he cherished. Being her first pregnancy, Legolas' mother anticipated a difficult delivery; Thranduil was at her side for a full twelve hours before he met his son for the first time. One of the miraculous things about his son's birth was that he did not cry. There was no screaming baby, only a small pink wriggling elfing was laid on his mother's chest. Perfectly healthy and content; the baby slept. The new parents cried tears of happiness and joy at the long anticipated arrival of their baby boy. Thranduil knew that he was the luckiest Elf in the realm. When he held his son in his arms for the first time, Thranduil could tell at that moment that his son would share many of his mother's features. The small points to his ears were just like the Queen's. The blue in his son's eyes matched that perfectly to his mother's. He could see small tuffs of sleek blonde hair on his son's head. Looking over to his wife, he saw she was covered in sheen of sweat, her long hair was a mess, and she appeared exhausted but completely peaceful. Thranduil thought she never looked more beautiful.

"Let's name him Legolas." The Elf Queen spoke softly as she stroked her son's cheek. Thranduil kissed his wife lightly and placed a light kiss on his sleeping son's head.

"Yes, I think that is a fitting name. Legolas Thranduilion. Prince of Mirkwood. I will always love and protect you my little prince."

When Legolas' mother died, he had Legolas to live for. If his son should die, the Elven king would have nothing to live for, for nothing else mattered. Would he sail west? Probably. He would leave Mirkwood, for it held too many memories of those he had lost and would never see again.

The King remained there crippled on the floor for the remainder of the night. His empty stare was fixed on the letter that lay before him. He did not have the strength to get up and retire to his chambers. Too many painful memories were invading his mind, he could not move.

In the morning, Feren entered the throne room with the intent on speaking to the King about placing one of the Generals as acting temporary Caption of the Guard while Tauriel was away, however the sight that greeted him made him stop come to a sudden halt.

Before him, the King was leaning against his throne. His crown was discarded to the floor, his robes were in disarray, and the letter from the prince still lay in his hands. He appeared not as the haughty fierce Elven King his subjects have come to know and respect. As Feren looked at Thranduil, he didn't see the powerful King, he saw a father who looked like he had lost the most precious and dearest thing to his heart. Feren recalled the last time he had seen the King in such a state was when the Queen had been declared dead. Though he knew the Prince still lived, there was no guarantee that he would return, he assumed that is what scared the King the most.

"My King?" Feren approached cautiously. After he was close enough to see that the King's eyes were red rimmed and that his hands were shaking, Feren decided that is would be safe to give his aide to his monarch. Collecting the crown from the floor, he placed it on the throne.

Feren kneeled beside his King, "My Lord Thranduil. Are you alright?"

Thranduil took a moment before he acknowledged the presence of one of his most trusted council member; "It is morning?" his voice was low and menacing.

"Yes, soon the guards will be arriving to give their report of last night's patrol." Feren responded calmly. He was being very careful to not do or say anything that would aggravate the King.

Nodding, Thranduil continued to stare ahead at the wall; seemingly lost in in his thoughts.

Feren spoke, trying to keep the King's attention, "My King, forgive me for saying, but you look like you need some rest. I will deal with the guards report should you feel the need to retire for the day?"

Thranduil barely heard what Feren had said, but he understood that he needed some solitude. Allowing the younger elf to help him stand, Thranduil rose up, towering over young Feren. The letter remained in his hand; he folded it and dared not read it again right now. Without a word to Feren, Thranduil's feet lead him to the familiar path that lead to his chambers. Feren watched his King leave, his steps slow and weary. The King would probably lock himself away for a few days; loose himself in a few bottles of wine, refuse meals and political summons. His depression would last for about a week, Feren guessed. After he had time to come to terms with what the letter spoke of, the King would return and resume his duties, but he would not be the same. Not until he was assured that his son would return home.

Elvish Translations:

Ada: Dad

Mithrandir: Elvish name for Gandalf