To Find a King

The entrance to the Woodland Realm loomed before them as Aragorn and Legolas approached the kingdom. The guards at the door recognised their Prince by sight, and opened the doors for the two to enter.

"My Lord Legolas," a brown-haired elf said, stepping forward to greet them.

"Well met, Elrosse," Legolas said in greeting. "We require urgent audience with my father."

"Of course, my Lord," Elrosse said, "If you will follow me. The King is in the throne room."

Legolas followed Elrosse, Aragorn close behind, marvelling at the sight before him. Legolas's descriptions of the Halls of the Woodland Realm had not come close to preparing the Ranger for what he now saw. It seemed to be lighter within the Halls than it had outside, rock carved into pillars which reached staggering heights and carved to make archways and walkways and balconies, pathways wound throughout the vast space of what was, technically, a cave with thin waterfalls cascading throughout.

"Aragorn," Legolas said.

"Oh," Aragorn breathed, taking in the beauty of the Prince's home.

Legolas smiled. "Close your mouth," he whispered.

Aragorn snapped his teeth together, and then grinned at the Prince. Legolas smiled and continued along the winding pathway. He looked around his home, and tried to see it with fresh eyes, the way Aragorn was. The waterfalls, the lighting streaming in from above, places where you could see a hundred feet down, and a hundred feet up. The Halls of King Thranduil truly were a wonder of elven engineering and architecture.

Aragorn gave Legolas a nudge, "Is that it?" he asked, gesturing to what looked like a room floating right in the very middle of the Halls, his voice full of awe.

"My father's throne room and out destination, aye," Legolas replied.

"My imagination did not do your home justice," Aragorn breathed.

"I can tell," Legolas smiled.

A few minutes later they approached the throne room. "My Lord Thranduil," Elrosse said by way of introduction.

King Thranduil, who stood before them, turned and faced the guests. "Ah," he said. "Leave us," the King commanded, and Elrosse and the two guards near by took their leave.

Aragorn forced himself to look composed, when he was in fact still completely in awe of his surroundings, and now also of the majestic King.

"So Legolas of the Woodland Realm returns, and brings with him a welcome guest," Thranduil said formally. Aragorn was unsure as to whether he was supposed to say anything or not, so stayed silent. "Aragorn of the Dúnedain," Thranduil said, "You are most welcome to the Woodland Realm."

Aragorn gave an embarrassed bow. He noticed that the only chair in the space was the King's throne positioned high above the platform on which they stood, embellished by a pair of massive elk antlers. Aragorn tried to catch Legolas's eyes for a hint of what he was supposed to be doing, but Legolas looked straight at his father. "It is an honour to meet you," Aragorn said awkwardly.

"You come with news from west," Thranduil said. He would suffer no niceties, preferring to get straight to matters of business.

"We come from Rivendell," Legolas said. He looked at his father and made a mental note of the fact that the King was completely unarmed.

"You come with news of Black Riders."

"You know?" Legolas asked, not completely surprised. The Prince found his father's expression difficult to read, but that was not uncommon. Thranduil had long mastered the skill of not allowing others to know what he was thinking if he did not wish it.

"Mithrandir passed through here early in the summer. Where he headed hence, I know not. It may do us well to share our intelligence," Thranduil said.

Legolas and Aragorn set about telling the King what they knew from Lord Elrond, and the King occasionally added a piece of his own knowledge.

"Well, that is all most enlightening," Thranduil said once the travellers had finished telling all they knew.

"You have not heard from Lord Elrond of late?" Legolas asked.

"Not since the summer solstice, when a number of my people passed through Rivendell on their way to the Grey Havens," the King replied stiffly, "And that correspondence contained little in the way of such serious concerns."

Legolas nodded. Now he was home, the Prince could see how loss of so many of the Woodland folk both within the shadow of Erebor and then to the Grey Havens had made the Halls that much emptier.

"Here," Thranduil said, and gave a wave of his hand. A moment later, Elrosse reappeared. "Show Lord Aragorn to his quarters. See to it that his is fed."

"Very well, my King. Come with me, my Lord," Elrosse said.

Aragorn gave a confused look at Legolas, who gave the Ranger an encouraging nod. Aragorn followed Elrosse away from the throne room, grateful to be set to receive a proper meal. Legolas and Thranduil stood in a tense silence for a few minutes. Once he was sure there were no ears near by to overhear, the King spoke.

"You returned sooner than I thought you would," he said, still very formal.

"With events happening such as they are, I had little choice. The Woodland Realm had to be warned. Someone had to come."

Thranduil began to pace across the throne room. "Elrond could have sent the twins or Lindir or any one of his household. You nominated yourself."

Legolas did not reply. He watched as his father paced across the throne space.

"I see you recovered your knives," the King commented, briefly looking at his son.

"I retrieved them at Ravenhill. They were a special gift, Ada, not something lightly left behind."

Thranduil gave a slight nod and stopped pacing. He stood in silence for a moment, looking out across the Halls before turning to Legolas. "When I went to Ravenhill," he said, a hint of frailty and pain in his voice, "I hadn't expected – I thought I'd find you…"

"Amongst the dead," Legolas breathed, finishing his father's sentence, his eyes widening at this new understanding. For the first time, the Prince realised why his father had come to Ravenhill. He had never even considered about Thranduil's motives to be there. Now, however, it all seemed so obvious. "Ada, I…"

"Didn't know," Thranduil said, his usual steely sharpness returning to his tone. "You don't know."

"I know," Legolas said, trying to find the right words without making himself look a fool, "I know little of warfare. I did not think…"

"No. You didn't think," Thranduil snapped. "You went running up there with no thought of the possible consequences! You have been fortunate that during your lifetime the world had been in a state of relative peace. You have not had need to go to war. You have not lost. You have not been caught in the middle of a battlefield watching those you love get butchered around you. You have not been so close to saving them, yet not close enough to reach them before they are cut down and killed before your very eyes. You do not understand!" The King yelled.

Legolas kept eye contact with his father. There was little Thranduil had not given over his many years in defence of his people and Middle Earth. His father, his wife, friends and counsellors beyond count, his body, and yet, here the King still stood. "I ran out of arrows," Legolas said, not knowing if he meant it by way of excuse or apology.

Thranduil's eyes flashed quickly to the full quiver upon his son's back. "I know. Not only did you run out of arrows, but you lost your knives and gave away your sword. Did you believe yourself capable to take on such great numbers unarmed? What arrogance led you?"

Legolas bowed his head, feeling ashamed. He knew he deserved to be berated by his father. He had acted rashly, and without thought. He could have cost himself or others their lives. Such a dark fog had blanketed his mind, and now Legolas saw how actions could have done more harm than good. "Forgive me, Ada. I acted against your orders. I could have cost Tauriel her life. I was wrong to disobey you."

"It was war," Thranduil said, the sharp edge gone from his voice. He stepped forward and put his hand under Legolas's chin, lifting up his son's head. Legolas believed he could see hurt in his father's eyes. "Everything was wrong."

Legolas gave a small nod.

"Go," Thranduil said, turning back to his throne, "Dine with your friend. You are safe within these walls."

Legolas gave his father a stiff bow, then turned on his heel and retreated from the throne room.

"Is everything alright with your father?" Aragorn asked a few minutes later. Legolas found the Ranger with a plate full of food and a generous spread before him. The Prince, feeling deflated, collapsed down into the chair opposite Aragorn and made himself a plate of food.

"I knew what was coming. He's only mad because he was scared and he worries."

Aragorn nodded, his mouth full of roast potato.

"I do not know what he would have done if I had been killed. I cannot begin understand all that he has lost. It is not something I could ever comprehend." Legolas poked at the food on his plate, his shoulders slumped.

"You are here now, and he is thankful for that. You cannot change his past."

"I know, I just – perhaps I did return too soon," Legolas sighed.

"Did he ask anything about me?' Aragorn asked.

Legolas shook his head. "He knows who you are, and he knows that I know. He will leave you be," for the time being, the Prince decided against finishing the sentence.

A server entered with a jug of wine and placed it on the table in front of the Prince. Aragorn removed the stopper and poured a goblet for Legolas and one for himself. The Ranger went to drink when Legolas put out his hand to stop him.

"What?" Aragorn asked.

"You shouldn't."

"It is only wine. I won't have much," Aragorn said, fully aware the potency of elven wine.

Legolas leaned across the table and took Aragorn's goblet of wine, pouring a tiny splash of it into the glass of water the Ranger already had beside his meal. "Seriously?" Aragorn asked.

A smile crept onto Legolas's lips. "My father does not mess around when it comes to wine. Not even our Silvan compatriots can handle this," the Prince said, taking a sip of the deep red liquid, feeling its warmth travel down into his stomach.

Aragorn took a sip and despite the ratio of water to wine, he could at once feel the effects of the wine. "Where do you find this stuff?" he laughed. "Let me try some at full strength!"

"No, it will kill you," Legolas laughed, grabbing hold of his goblet.

"Say that with a straight face, and I'll believe you."

"I can't, you're making me laugh!"

"Legolas!" Aragorn laughed.

"This is not for mortal consumption. Eat your potatoes!"

Alone on his throne, Thranduil heard the echo of a laugh. Somewhere in his Halls, someone was happy. The King knew in his heart that the happiness came at least in part from his son. It had been long since he had heard Legolas laugh. Once, laughter and song had been the norm within these grand, cavernous Halls, but those days were now long past. Now the King sat alone, his Halls growing ever quieter and emptier.

Thranduil tapped his fingers slowly on the armrest of his throne. He felt the small flame inside of him flicker and grow. A Ranger from the North and the Woodland Prince. Black Riders may roam the lands, orcs may come down from the mountains, tales of dark things growing in Mordor may reach his ears, but today the King had seen that in which he still held hope, and believed wholly his hopes not to be mislaid.