To Find a King

Legolas awoke to a pale and sunless day. Thick clouds covered the sky, making it hard to judge the time of day, but the Prince guessed it was nearing noon by what winter light shone into his bedroom. He lay in bed, unmoving, trying to remember his dreams, only nothing came to mind. In a way he was glad. After some minutes, Legolas propped himself up, his muscles happy to cooperate, and was surprised to find that he was not alone in his chambers. Two figures sat silently at either side of the table where he and Lord Elrond had dined the previous night. Between them sat a plate of food.

"Mellon-nin," Legolas said and smiled as the two forms re-animated.

"Well met, our Woodland Prince," said the elf to Legolas's left.

"Well met?" Teased the other, "More like hardly met at all. Last night we heard such wonderful rumours that our sweet friend from the east had returned, only we saw nothing of him. We were forced to seek out our father who begrudgingly informed us that you had indeed sought out the hospitality of Rivendell. We had not been officially informed as, well, our father more or less labelled us as 'disturbers of the peace'," the elf said conspiratorially.

Legolas grinned whole heartedly; something he had not done for sometime. He sat up properly, feeling only a slight tightness in his upper back, but none of the other physical pains he had been bearing of late. Elladan and Elrohir, the twin sons of Lord Elrond who sat opposite him, were amongst his oldest friends.

"We were given strict instructions not to wake you, although we have eaten some of your breakfast," Elladan smirked.

Legolas laughed, "How long have you been waiting?"

"Some good hours," Elrohir said, "Breakfast consists of fresh bread, dried fruits, butter and a particularly good apple and raspberry compote."

Legolas looked at his friends. "Then I suppose I should join you," he said, pushing back the blankets, and swinging his legs out of bed. As he stood, Legolas saw that the world outside had been coated with snow overnight. The Prince pondered momentarily at how snow in Rivendell could look so beautiful and soft, yet the same element within the shadow of the Lonely Mountain had been dirty and cold.

His room had remained at a perfectly pleasant temperature throughout the cold night, and the fire was once again blazing, Legolas presumed that was thanks to the twins. The Prince saw a fine brocaded robe draped over the end of the bed which he had not noticed the night before, perhaps because it had not been there. He pulled it on over his nightclothes, and sat down at the table on a low chest of draws which Elladan had pulled over. Legolas took a plate and made up his breakfast. The three spoke idly as Legolas ate, all happy to keep the conversation from straying into the territory of matters concerning the dark and foul things of Middle Earth.

After emptying his plate, Legolas asked the twins, "Is Lord Elrond here?"

The two exchanged a glance. "He's out," Elrohir replied.

"Out where?" Legolas asked, curious. With the weather this cold, it was unusual for elves to travel needlessly.

"He left this morning," Elladan said, "Six rode east. Ada indicated they should return around nightfall."

Legolas gave thought to this, and tried to push suspicion from his mind that Lord Elrond was avoiding him, or buying himself time. "And you two were not asked along?"

"We were happy to decline," Elladan said and smiled, "The day is bitter, and the company of old friends proves much more enjoyable."

For a moment Legolas considered confiding in the twins the quest his father had set him. It was likely they knew something; why, they may even know where to find this son of Arathorn. "Then I suppose you have devised a day full of winter activities in which to keep me occupied?" Legolas asked, deciding against the twin's confidence.

"'The Prince needs rest and relaxation' our father told us," Elrohir said, "So we have planned a day of archery practice and strenuous hikes, followed by sword play in the yard, and,"

"Elrohir," Elladan said, kicking his brother under the table, noting a strange look come over Legolas's face.

"What is it?" Elrohir asked the Prince.

"Not sword play," Legolas said, feeling his heart rate increase and his hands clench slightly. He did not want to hold another sword. He could not.

"You can use your knives," Elrohir suggested helpfully.

"My brother jests," Elladan said, "Ignore his foolishness. Ada left strict instructions that the day is to be spent reading, playing music and dreaming, doing each for however long one desires."

Legolas nodded solemnly. "Forgive me, mellon-nin, I am not quite myself."

"There is nothing to forgive," Elrohir smiled kindly, the exact same expression worn by Lord Elrond the night previous. He stood and placed his hand momentarily on Legolas's shoulder.

"Besides," Elladan said, standing also, "Arwen will be glad for a change of company."

"An improvement, no doubt she will say," Elrohir added.

"I shall be glad to meet with her," Legolas said honestly. If there had been one in whom he had always held confidence, it was the Lady Arwen.

The afternoon passed in a mix of books and music and tales Middle Earth of long ago, long before any of their fathers or even grandfathers walked the earth. Legolas was glad to be in the company of Lord Elrond's children, as well as a small number of other elves of Rivendell, but he never found the chance to speak with the Lady Arwen alone. Night fell, and Lord Elrond and the riders who had set out that morning were yet to return. Legolas supped with the Lord's offspring in a room overlooking one of the great waterfalls which ran past Rivendell. The water still ran steadily despite the cold; it was not so freezing as to stop the motion of those great falls. Not like the cold further east, in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain, where river and waterfall alike had been frozen solid. Ice was more treacherous than running water, Legolas decided, as you never knew when it might abandon you and make you fall into the freezing depths below, then likely blocking your way back up.

"Legolas?" Elladan asked, his fork half-way to his mouth. It was the second time today he had seen that expression upon the Prince's face.

"It is nothing," Legolas said, forcing his mind back to reality. He pushed his meal of stewed venison and roast carrots around on the plate. He felt abandoned by Tauriel, by his mother, by his father, by Lord Elrond… "I am just tired," the Prince said, laying down his fork, his meal half-eaten.

"Perhaps we should retire for the night," Arwen said, giving Legolas a way out.

Legolas nodded. "Good night to you all," he said as politely as he could. He was quite aware that the three siblings would discuss his peculiar behaviour in his absence, but he cared not. Legolas headed briskly for his chamber, passing the mural of Isildur and the shards of Narsil and stopped. Arathorn, son of Arador, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and rightful King to the Throne of Gondor. The history of the Dúnedain came flooding into Legolas's mind. The elven Prince then noticed that he was holding his breath. He exhaled, turned wide-eyed and looked at the mural of Isildur defeating Sauron on the slopes of Mount Doom. This Ranger, this Strider he was to seek, was the Heir of Isildur, and thereby rightful King of Gondor. And King Thranduil, if no one else, would see him restored.