Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and sceneries belongs to JRR Tolkien.

"We've lost a lot of years, but you can't lose love. Not real love. It stays locked inside you, ready for whenever you are strong enough to find it again."

― Martina Boone, Compulsion

XVI – TIME OF WAITING – Part 2 – FINAL CHAPTER

"Estel, this is our friend. Say hello to Legolas." Elrohir gestured for the blond elf to approach. Those round and bright blue eyes were now absolutely fixed on the prince. "He was a little boy just like you when we first met, did you know that?"

Legolas stepped toward them, dealing as he could with his apprehension. He, as well as some of his friends, were the last children in his land, so he had never been this close to someone so young before. How could they be so small and fragile and... adorable?

Within moments, a lock of his blond hair was in those little hands, more precisely within a half-open mouth.

"Elrohir..." Legolas warned, frowning, between worried and surprised, and the brothers laughed.

"Do not do that, penig," Elladan said, gently disentangling the child's hand, while Elrohir helped him release their friend's hair from that little trap. "Do you not think you are too old to do this?" He then laughed at the innocent look he received. "You used to do that only with Glorfindel's hair, now you seem to have found another victim."

"True," Elrohir laughed. "Legolas' hair is much easier to pull, is it not, Estel? Glorfindel is a little less distracted."

"Leg'las," the little voice tried, and everyone laughed even more, including the prince now.

"He is... He is so small..." Legolas said, unable to contain his fascination.

"Leg'las..." the boy repeated, and this time he stretched his arms out to him.

Legolas turned pale, stepping back cautiously.

Elrohir looked at his twin and smiled, and then both glanced at Gilraen as if awaiting instructions or consent. The lady leaned toward Legolas with the child in her arms. "Would you give me the honor of holding him for a moment, noble prince?" she asked with unquestionable formality, and Legolas grimaced in such embarrassment, that the twins had to turn their faces away to disguise how much fun they were having with the situation.

Legolas raised his palms slightly in his defense, feeling his face turning from white to red. "My good lady... I do not think it is... wise... I've never... I've never held a child before and…" He mumbled his excuses, but Gilraen just smiled at him. She did not seem nearly as apprehensive as he was. In fact, her conviction was so strong that she did not hesitate to put the child in the elf's arms. Legolas held him awkwardly at first, but soon had him in a position that was a little more comfortable. Ilúvatar, he weighed much more than he would have guessed!

Those smiling little lips were close now and the small hand took a lock of his hair toward that mouth again.

"Leg'las"

He had to laugh.

Lovely.

That was the reason elves did not have any more children, he thought. Nothing would make them more vulnerable.

That reminded him of his father and one of the king's most frequent phrases when his son did something he should not have done: "You are my downfall, senseless elf." Yes, unfortunately or not, the king had his reasons to consider him one of his greatest weaknesses.

"Can you not listen to your king even when he is in the next room, Captain?"

Legolas stood up with a start at the loud sound of that voice. Eglerion quickly left Legolas alone, resuming his inconspicuous place by the door.

There he was. Austerity and strength in clothes in the colors of their land, well-braided hair and curved eyebrows adorning absolutely green eyes.

"Did you not hear me call you, Captain? Or would you prefer spending some time in a place even less comfortable than this chair? A place where you might not hear me actually calling you?"

And he was angry.

Ilúvatar, he rarely had seen him so angry.

However, despite everything that had happened, Legolas felt even happier than he expected to, seeing his father there a few feet from him. He had missed him terribly; that's what he wanted to tell him first. Seeing his friends with their fathers, with other friends gathered around them, only made him miss his own family more. And his family was the king. It was so good to see him now, even if it was only to have his eyes driving stern and disappointed arrows at him.

A loud noise then startled him again. Thranduil had pushed the door all the way open and it had hit the wall, and then his father had disappeared back into his chamber, and the passage, which was left free to him, was not as inviting as he'd hoped it would be.

"Too bad you cannot stay a bit longer," Elrohir said, his voice emanating a sadness that was not characteristic of him, and the prolonged hug he gave to Legolas was not usual, either. "Please come back to visit us, Las. Do not let time separate us again."

Leaning firmly on his friend's shoulder, Legolas could not answer. Actually he felt that he could not even move away. He was having a hard time trying not to weep, so all he could do was hold his friend a little tighter. Soon the arms of Elladan were embracing both of them and the older twin kissed his temple like he did when he was little.

"Do not sadden your heart, Las," he said softly in his ear. "We will not grow apart again; you have my word. If you cannot come to us, we will go to the forest."

Legolas came gently out of Elrohir's arms and he was received by Elladan's hug. The older twin put his hand on the prince's head to keep him there for a while.

"I will be back..." Legolas promised in a choked voice, stifled against his friend's shirt. He knew how difficult it would be for the brothers to fulfill their promise and visit his father's land. "I will find a way..."

"That is good to hear," Elrohir said, and when he received a reproachful gaze from his brother, he just smiled and shrugged, showing he was not as worried about Legolas having to face Thranduil's temper as his brother was.

Legolas finally turned away from the twins. A few meters distant, Thavanian was waiting beside one of the horses that would take them home. Idhrenniel was by his side, saying goodbye to him. A group of Rivendell Elves, ready to mount, were waiting patiently around him.

"Forgive us for not escorting you. I wish not to be the reason impeding us from going," Elladan explained sadly. It was evident in his voice that he wanted to do the opposite, but he had no choice, as his father's statement was that he stayed in Imladris, until he was completely recovered.

"I understand..." Legolas said with a hint of sadness. "Postponing a farewell is not always very wise."

"It will be a brief period of separation, I hope." Legolas heard a familiar voice and turned to meet Elrond's patient smile. The healer did not come alone; he was walking slowly, bringing young Estel by the hand. During his period in Imladris, Legolas had noticed how close the elf-lord was to the child.

However, seeing the boy's little arms already stretched toward him, he understood why everyone here just loved Estel so much. He had spent quite some time with him since they met, and he'd had the opportunity of seeing the way the twins treated him, the love they had for the child and the way he returned that love with enthusiasm. Estel reminded Legolas of himself as a child. He stepped ahead, lifting the boy in his arms. He laughed then, when he saw Estel quickly ensnare a lock of his blond hair between his fingers and quickly move it into his mouth.

"Leg'las."

"Does Legolas taste good, Estel?" Elrohir was not about to lose another opportunity to mock his friend and Elladan laughed, taking the child's hand away from his mouth.

Legolas smiled, kissing Estel's face. It saddened his heart to leave, especially now that he had met the little ádan. He knew that time had a special importance in regard to this little boy. It was one more problem for him to solve. He could not stay missing so many years if he actually wanted to be part of the life of this special child.

"Do not grow up too soon," he joked, smiling, when he felt Estel's little hands reach up to take hold of his face as if the boy wanted the elf to look at him.

"Leg'las travels like E'adan and El'ohere, and Leg'las comes back soon," he said, probably repeating an acceptable excuse that they had given him.

The prince smiled, nodding, but a tear finally ran down his face.

The child frowned, worried, and slid his little hand clumsily to wipe it away. "Leg'las... not cry. Not cry, Leg'las.

The prince smiled again, nodding in a more emphatic agreement now, breathing deeply and putting the best smile he could on his face. "I will be back soon, Estel. I promise," he said, trying to keep from weeping anymore. The child then hugged him with all his might.

"Miss Leg'las…"

"I will miss you, too."

Elrohir, who was the person nearest to them, sighed, swallowing his sorrow. Attending a silent request from his father, he came closer then, taking Estel from his friend's arms.

"Estel is the wisest of us, do you not agree, Las?" he teased, kissing the boy's face. "He just said, 'Miss you, Come back soon'. Would that everything could be that easy."

Legolas smiled, still looking at the small child, who was now entertained with the little stars embroidered on the collar of the twin's shirt.

"Easy or hard are just different forms of seeing the world," Elrond said as he walked closer, and the prince lowered his face, resting his hand on his chest. He wished he had had more opportunities to talk to the Lord of Imladris, but time had not been his ally lately.

"Sir…" he said. "I am grateful for everything you have done for me. I will be at your service anytime you have need, my lord," Legolas said in a barely audible tone.

Elrond looked at him tenderly. "I am glad I can count on a warrior such as you, mellon nîn," he said with a smile. "I hope I do not need your services, but if I do I will feel pity on the enemy who dares to stand in my way."

Legolas chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It was a great pleasure to meet you, sir," he said sincerely. "I wish I could tell you how important being here was to me. I just cannot find the appropriate words to thank you and to apologize for what I did. I really wish I could."

Elrond held his arm gently. "Do not worry your good heart, my child. Make your way back without unnecessary weight on your shoulders, knowing you left behind people who wish you well and who yearn for your quick return."

Legolas took a deep breath, not knowing what to say. However, Elrond walked away, not seeming actually to wait for any answer. With the elf-lord's departure, the prince could see Erestor at the top of the stairs, and he took the opportunity to say goodbye with a short bow. The elf smiled back courteously, waving to him. Legolas glanced around quickly, looking for another person he hadn't seen since the orcs' trap. He wished at least to say goodbye, but could not find him.

"I think I will not get a chance to say goodbye to Lord Glorfindel," he commented, when Elrond returned bringing a package that one of his elves has been holding until that moment.

Elrond also looked around, then sighed with a wise smile. "Let us say that he has said many goodbyes in his life. That's why he is not here. He thinks he has already had his share of farewells. These are his words, not mine."

Legolas tried to believe that was the reason, but the doubt was so clear on his face that Elrond held his arm again.

"Believe me, it has nothing to do with you, my boy. He is never here when a company or even a patrol is leaving. It doesn't matter who is on it or where they are going."

Legolas raised his eyebrows, definitely surprised. Elrond seemed satisfied with that reaction, so he offered the package he had in his hands to him.

"Here, I hope that you accept and enjoy it," he said.

"What is it, sir?"

"I remembered the deal we struck in the library. But you had no time to choose the books you wanted to read."

Legolas grimaced at his thoughtlessness. He had totally forgotten about that. "Valar! Neither did I check the maps you asked me to review, sir," he said, totally upset and embarrassed.

"That is true," Elrond said, his smile widening. "That is the reason I chose the books instead of allowing you to do it. I wanted you to see the quality of our literary material, so you will be tempted to come back just to fulfill your promise and to explore our library."

Legolas was unable to decide if the elf-lord was seriously disappointed or just teasing him. But when Elrond laughed softly, passing the package into his hands, the prince was relieved.

"I am sorry for forgetting my promise, my lord. When I come back I will bring new maps with me for you, sir."

Elrond squeezed the blond elf's shoulder. "I will be grateful, for the maps and for your presence under my roof again," he said, and then his face grew more solemn. "You know that your actual help was unimaginably more useful than your updating of some maps would have been, don't you, child?"

Legolas lowered his head shyly, but curiosity brought his attention to the package he had in his hands. "Shall I open it, sir?"

"Please, do. There is some information about these books I need to give you."

Legolas' curiosity grew with that comment, so he quickly unfastened the ties on the package. The fabric that was covering it slipped away, revealing two large books. The first one's title was written in golden letters.

OROPHER – KING OF GREENWOOD

Legolas held his breath, his eyes locked on the golden letters of his grandfather's name. "I did not know there was an entire book about... about him," he said.

"There is. However, it has been in the wrong hands," Elrond said, standing beside Legolas, looking at the book as well. "Take it and it will be where it should always have been," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Legolas smiled, and his eyes shone with gratitude. "I have no words to thank you again, sir."

Elrond pressed his lips together, seeming moved by the young elf's reaction. "Some feelings do not need to be described, child," he said. "I am glad you like it. That is enough for me."

Legolas kept looking at Elrond, still trying to find something to say. Soon he realized that was going to be impossible. He moved his eyes to the book beneath the first one, whose title immediately aroused his curiosity and surprise.

IMLADRIS – THE LAST HOMELY HOUSE.

"By the Valar," he exclaimed, raising rounded eyes to Elrond again. He had spent his life reading books. The king's library was huge, and he had not lived a single week without seeing his father receive another volume from a different part of Middle-earth. He devoured them all as soon as they got into his hands. Nevertheless, he had never seen these two before.

"It explains the full history of this land we protect, which I thought you might like to know."

"It is splendid sir... I have never seen this book before either."

"I am glad you like it. It is a very precious book to me. Elrohir made a better copy of its drawings and maps for me, and Elladan organized all the material in a very beautiful reproduction of it. That's why I can allow it to be taken from here for the first time."

Legolas was surprised. "Oh, sir... I cannot... Why don't you lend me the twins' copy?"

Elrond looked at the red cover with golden letters, then placed a hand on top of it, feeling its texture. "Because I prefer keeping my sons' work rather than my own," he smiled, looking at Legolas. "You do not need to bring back the first one. It is a gift. But let's say that this second book is your return compromise. I will only accept it back from your hands, child, and no one else's."

Legolas felt his heart ache again. Elbereth, why were departures so difficult?

Elrond noticed the prince's emotional state, so he took him by the shoulders. "If I could just listen to my heart, I would lock the gates and make you stay here with us, child, because your presence has changed things that I thought were too marked by time to be changed. However, there are more priorities in this world than my father's heart, so all I can do is to give you reasons to come back to us when you can."

Legolas felt a lump in his throat, and his eyes were burning again. He placed his hands around the books. "This place is full of reasons for me to return, sir." He tried to smile, looking at the people around him. "Maybe at home this book will serve as a good reason to others for me to return here; maybe they will understand the need then. But I wish you to know, my lord, that my reasons for coming back here are even more precious than these two extraordinary volumes. And my desire to return will begin as soon as I cross that bridge."

Elrond's smile was sad, and Legolas felt the same way he had when he saw the elf-lord for the first time, fear and affection, as if that powerful healer could take from him every pain, but every truth as well. For that reason, when, unexpectedly, Elrond brought him near,embracing him paternally, he accepted it the same way he had accepted the gifts he had just received, as something priceless that made him believe in himself again, to find the strength to try to correct what was wrong in his life.

"Be happy, Legolas," Elrond said, so that only the prince could hear him. "When you are happy, you bring happiness to everyone around you. Remember this when you get to your land, when you are with your father again. Never forget this.Ever."

"Are you going to make me come out there again?"

His father's voice reverberated throughout the hall now, and Legolas finally realized there was no more time to be attached to good memories. He could not look to them for support right now. He had to believe in what he had lived, in what he had learnt. He had to face the king.

Finally, he rose from his chair, leaned a hand against the wall as he took hold of the travel bag he had left on the floor, and slowly walked to the large door. When he was directly in front of it, his gaze was drawn to the opposite side of the room, the place he always looked first when he came to this chamber. Standing before a big map was his father, his eyes roaming the well-known paths, calculating strategies, checking territories, trying to find new ways to defend the most precious of his treasures: his forest.

Every single time he'd entered this room, since he remembered being allowed in it for anything, he saw exactly that. He used to think that the king never sat down or slept.

"Thranduil?" a voice called.

"Come in," he answered.

The door opened slowly and the delicate figure of Elvéwen entered the king's chamber. She didn't say a word, but she looked around as if she were searching for something. Thranduil frowned and followed his wife's graceful movements; she slid her eyes past the various corners of the room with a slight smile.

"Have you lost something?" he asked, glancing throughout the chamber, too, but without knowing what he was looking for.

"I think so," she answered, smiling.

"Certainly not here," he said in an annoyed tone. The king did not like being interrupted when he was focused on something. "You rarely attend my chamber for any reason."

"True," she nodded, ignoring the uncordial tone of her husband. "I do not attend... But someone seems to want to attend."

Thranduil squinted at her, puzzled. He was visibly exasperated. His obvious question was imprinted on his face: What did Elvéwen want in here anyway?

"I need to work," he said impatiently, as his eyes began to examine the document on his desk once again.

"I know," she said continuing her quest, now looking under the furniture with her knees slightly bent.

Thranduil sighed loudly as his attention was drawn to his wife again, and he finally looked up at her. "So why don't you tell me once and for all what you're looking for, and I'll tell you whether it is here or not. I know every inch of this damn place. If an insect has entered this room, I would know it."

Elvéwen finally straightened her back and cast a sad look at her husband. He rarely used the same cold tone with her that he used while talking to other people around him, but this seemed to be one of the times when the king needed to be reminded to whom he was speaking.

"If this were true indeed, you would have realized that you were not alone during the afternoon, foolish and arrogant elf," she replied evenly, putting her hands on her hips and offering a small smile.

Thranduil's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows seemed fused together, but he questioned nothing, he just stood up and grabbed the hand that his wife held out to him, kneeling on the floor as she instructed. Under a large closet of solid wood and glass in which the king kept ancient weapons and other valuables, the two elves were able to catch sight of something unexpected: a golden light whose center was blessed by a pair of bright blue crystals.

"Are you sure you would have noticed anything different inside your office, hervenn nîn?" she joked, reaching out to the figure that moved slightly now under the big piece of furniture.

Thranduil squinted and when he could finally see to what Elvéwen referred, he was embarrassed.

"I do not believe it, Elvéwen!" he said, angry now. "Don't you look after our son anymore?"

The queen closed her eyes, but she ignored her husband's harsh words again. "I do," she simply said. "Actually I've been looking for him for hours. But it seems he's not exactly missing my 'looking out for him', but somebody else's," she ended, frowning slightly when she realized that the elfling did not seem to have the intention of coming out from under the closet and into the arms she held out to him.

Thranduil frowned and looked again at the pair of blue eyes that shrank further back in that dark hiding place. Then he realized what his wife was talking about. He cautiously extended his arms out toward his son and saw the reaction coming from the child, an indecision wavering between obeying his father's silent request or not.

"Come here, Squirrel," he finally said. "I do not want you under such a heavy piece of furniture, you senseless elfling. What were you thinking?"

"Ada..." the boy said, his sad voice emerging quietly. "Do not be angry..."

Elvéwen looked away and her gaze crossed that of her husband. Thranduil's lips tightened and he turned back to the hidden figure.

"I'm not angry, Squirrel," he said in a smoother tone. "Come on. Get out from under there."

Receiving this peace sign, the elfling obeyed, creeping slowly, until his father took one of the boy's little arms and pulled him the rest of the way out.

"That's my boy!" the king said in a more playful voice, rising with the child in his arms as he swiped at his son's dusty clothes. "Remind me to ask the cleaners for a little more attention to certain dark corners," he said, receiving a nod and a smile from Elvéwen, too.

Legolas rubbed his nose with his palm and then immediately sneezed, making his parents laugh.

"Someone here definitely needs to be cleaned," Elvéwen said gracefully, sliding her fingers along her son's rosy cheeks. "Why were you hiding here, penig?"

Legolas bit the corner of his lip, looking from his mother to his father before answering.

"I was watching ada work," he said to Thranduil's surprise.

"All afternoon long?" inquired his mother. "And you didn't get tired?"

"No..." the elfling said, laying his head on his father's shoulder and yawning.

Elvéwen laughed again, but Thranduil felt slightly uncomfortable with that information.

"Ada did not get tired, nana..." the boy declared, hugging his father's neck and settling himself more comfortably on the king's shoulder. "He works really hard," he explained slowly as his eyes drifted closed for a moment, just to open again as he tried to stay awake. "But he never gets tired... Never."

"You know what? I am giving up talking to you today, Captain."

Legolas woke from his reverie with Thranduil's powerful voice ringing in his ears. The king still had his eyes on his work and did not raise them, not even when he made his last statement. "Distracted as you are today, you are not useful to me for anything. Go to your quarters where you can be lost in thought for as long as you desire. Stay there until I call for you."

Legolas could not believe it had happened again. He was still standing in front of the open door. What had his father just said? Would he not talk to him anymore?

"You said you wanted me to wait…" he remembered, confused.

"Is it too hard to listen to me? Even here, a few meters from me?" Thranduil asked, still without raising his eyes. "I've already called you twice and you took too long to attend my request, Captain. Time enough for me to think about all the information I already have and realize that your testimony is not as important as I thought it would be. You can go."

Legolas continued looking at him, his lips slightly parted, as he tried to understand what he had done wrong now. He always did something wrong. When he finally understood the problem, he sighed, discontent. Elbereth, he was so tired, why couldn't his father just understand this? But no, he was always able to surprise him with a new kind of punishment for each of his slips. Now he would not even give him the opportunity to explain himself.

"I am sorry if I made you wait, sir," he said, trying to make amends. "Please, forgive me," he finished, but watching his father's reaction, the way Thranduil closed his hands into tightly clenched fists, already showed him how interested he was in his son's excuses.

Legolas closed his eyes, counting to ten just to calm down. He was so weary that maybe the best thing at that moment would be exactly that, to go away and throw himself onto his bed. Maybe there, inside the room he had been confined to many times, even without this being a punishment, he could find some peace.

Ilúvatar. But the simple thought of leaving without talking to the king saddened him. That was not what he wanted to do. His conscience was begging him to try to solve this problem so that he could have some peace. He was on the last step of a very long and arduous journey. He could not just leave now. He could not give up.

"And close the door behind you," he heard the king demand, ignoring his last plea as he always did when he declared a subject finished.

Legolas just stood there, overcome by his draining energy. He was divided. He could simply obey and leave without a word, or he could stay and risk angering his father even more. It was then he remembered something. Something that could help him. He had to try. He put the bag he was carrying down on the table and took one of the books from inside it. This could be a dangerous move, but then, it could also be the right one. He took a deep breath, looking at the book's title and remembering Megildur's words about being patient. He sighed before walking toward his father.

The king's chamber was a huge room of solid rock. The walls gleamed as if they were always damp, but they were not. Legolas found it fascinating, especially when, later in the afternoon, more candlesticks had to be lit, as the sun's rays, which helped light the room during the day, no longer escaped through the few gaps in those rocky walls.

Thranduil's map table was at the opposite end of the chamber for a particular reason. Whatever he might be doing, he would always have a chance to see who was entering and analyze the situation as the person crossed the room in order to speak to him.

Legolas, however, walked that route without the king's eyes on him. He knew his father certainly had felt his presence, and more than that, the prince knew as well why his father was not reacting to his approach. The king was already starting his condemnation, ignoring him as he always did when he was angry with him. He knew how effective this particular punishment was.

Legolas walked toward his father anyway and cautiously placed the book upon the table, sliding it forward until it sat in front of the king.

There was a moment of silence.

Thranduil's hand moved to it, but, to his son's surprise, he did not take or open the book, he only lightly touched the golden letters on the cover with the tips of his long fingers. He did that for mere seconds, and then he pushed the volume to a corner of the table and continued looking at the map that was before him.

Legolas sighed. It was useless. Nothing he could say or do would change the situation. Embittered with that certainty, he decided to do what he was told, swallowing his justifications and apologies. The king had his own time for everything. Time to punish, time to forgive. The hardest thing was dealing with the king's time.

"I am sorry, ada…," he said anyway, as he turned to leave.

"You should be," Thranduil said unpredictably, making his son stop in mid-step. "The question is if you know what you are sorry for."

The last sentence erased the fragile light of hope Legolas had seen, when he heard his father's voice. He closed his eyes again. Valar, he should have gone without a word. The worst thing was that he knew what the king wanted with that question; he wanted to hear him admit to his mistakes—out loud. He had made him do that his entire life. It didn't matter how little or big his lapse had been. One might think a small error in judgment would merit a small punishment, but in fact, it never changed it.

This time, however, he had a complicated list of things to regret, and none of them was a simple child's mistake.

"I crossed many boundaries," he said, not knowing where to start, but trying to begin from somewhere.

"You crossed many boundaries?" Thranduil asked, finally looking at him. "Do you really think that if you listed every single fault of yours, that crossing the boundaries should be the first one on your list?"

Legolas parted his lips, already feeling defeated. Why did he not just walk away from here? What a waste of time talking to his father was. He could already see in his eyes that his judgment had been swift and the sentence that would be handed down was complete and irrevocable. He could already see that he blamed him, that he thought he was guilty of everything. It wouldn't make any difference if they discussed the rest, talking about that horrendous day. It would not matter if they spoke about the deaths of his friends.

"I crossed the boundaries," he repeated, looking at his father with wary eyes. "I crossed all of them… As I did when she died. I did the same thing again. I crossed all the boundaries. All of them, ada."

Thranduil went pale, but his eyes were that terrible tone of green that told of his fury. When Legolas continued walking toward his father, he had to try his best not to back down.

As soon as Legolas reached him, the king took him tightly by the upper arms, his face stiff. "Do you think reminding me of your misadventures of the past will make me have mercy on you?" he said between his teeth. "What do you want from me? You want me to think you are the same confused elfling who left the cave without his parents' permission?"

"I don't want your mercy…" Legolas closed his eyes; he could not look at his father's irate face without his body trembling. "I am just doing what I know you want me to do."

"And what is that?"

"Admitting all my stupidity. You want me to do that, so maybe you will finally convince yourself that you shouldn't have allowed me to be a captain."

"Maybe I can use this to convince me that I should punish you with my hands."

Why not? Legolas thought. His father's reprimands never went further than holding his arms strongly, as he was doing now, but Legolas had always expected him to go further one day. He had dreams about him punishing him severely, knocking him to the ground, his face covered in blood. He unconsciously thought he would have felt better if his father had just hit him with his closed fist. Perhaps if the king really punished him, he could finally forgive him for what he had done, for everything he had done. Perhaps then, they could be father and son again.

"Maybe I should do that for the first time to finally convince you to obey me," Thranduil said, holding Legolas' arm tighter, and the prince could not hide a grimace of pain. He pushed his son mercilessly to stand before his table, making him look at the same map Thranduil had been looking at before.

Legolas frowned, his mouth partially open, still trying to find enough air to ease his rapid heartbeat. He wondered why his father had dragged him here. Thranduil had marked a specific territory to the north in red ink. That made Legolas shiver. He knew the meaning of the crimson paint. He also knew the marked territory.

"Have we lost the ultimate guarded point?"

"What do you think? Was your patrol there to defend it?"

"But…" Legolas' jaw dropped. "We were attacked…"

"I know. We also lost twelve good warriors. The warriors of your patrol."

"How could I have known? We were attacked in a region that was always safer than the main track through the forest..."

"You were attacked on a route you should not have taken."

"Alagos told me he always takes that path when he is in the area ..."

"Alagos is named Alagos, not Legolas. He had his own instructions, which he, as well, has difficulty following. You are right. I really must have the best captains heading my patrols. And you all seem to be competing among yourselves to show me who is the most impulsive and irresponsible of all."

Legolas was offended, not by the mention of his name, but by his father's derogatory words about his colleagues. He knew how hard it was to have been given his instructions only to suddenly be obligated to change them for some unexpected reason. Even harder was doing that while trying to follow the king's line of thought, so as to not disappoint him. Few were the captains who managed do that, and he liked to think he was one of them until that awful day. The problem was that almost everyone who didn't strictly obey the king's instructions ended up facing the results of a wrong decision.

"You received your own instructions," Thranduil continued, pacing now around the room like a lion in a cage. "And they were not instructions to Alagos or any other stupid captain. They were clearly to you, to a captain named Legolas. And don't give me those fool arguments of yours. You knew better than any of them what was right to do. You always know. You are the prince, for Ilúvatar's sake. You cannot commit the same mistakes as the others."

Legolas sighed, confused and disappointed with the situation. "I am no better than anyone else. And Alagos' team is as experienced as mine. He assured me that there was no danger. I am sure something must have changed since Alagos' patrol crossed the boundary at the Great Northern tree, and that's why we did not have the same luck they had."

"Since when does Alagos' advice weigh more for you than my orders do?"

Legolas blushed at the king's latest censure, but he didn't let that stop him from attempting to explain. "Alagos told me that the central track was infested with spiders. For some unknown reason, they were concentrated there... My group was not ready to face them, ada. We were on the last part of our mission, to the most distant of our points of guard. And that was the worst part of the journey. It was very cold and the territory had changed, as if not even the trees were welcoming us anymore. We used most of our energy just getting there. Some of us even feared not being able to fight if we found the place already taken by another enemy."

"So you decided to lead a weak patrol down an unknown path?" Thranduil looked at him again.

"I…" Legolas fell silent then, feeling his father's accusing stare hurt more than the punch of a Troll might have. He dropped his shoulders, and his eyes went to the floor. Thranduil looked back at the map he had before him, making a few marks in the region they'd mentioned.

Legolas pressed his teeth together hard. "I am grieving for them, ada. Do not think I don't know they died because I failed. I would never deny it."

"They died," Thranduil said bitterly, "because you ignored my instructions."

Legolas winced, and now he had to breathe deeply and slowly to not allow the despair to overpower him. "I… I ignored your instructions," he forced himself to admit. "It was my fault. I am very sorry."

Thranduil raised his eyes from the map, his chin hard as a rock. "Twelve soldiers, Legolas. An entire patrol. Our numbers cannot be reduced this way. We are without any people to train to this hard work. You know that," Thranduil finished with an impatient sigh. He placed both hands on top of the table thoughtfully. "Did you bury your dead?" he asked, without looking at him.

The question was met with silence instead of the answer he expected, and it didn't take long for the king to puff out his chest, angry again, looking back at his son.

"Did you bury your friends, Captain?" he repeated louder.

"I did," Legolas replied in a quivering voice, without even looking at him. It was harder and harder to speak without showing his emotions anymore. "I did it with the help of Elrohir's group."

Thranduil drew closer to him again, and Legolas realized that seemed to be new information to the king. As Thavanian was unconscious when that had happened, he hadn't known that part of the story, either.

"Were you not even able to bury your brothers? Or did you leave them in the hands of those half-elves and their patrol?" "I did what I could," Legolas said. "There were so many. I... did the honors. I chanted the songs... I just needed some help. I do not know how I would have done it if the twins had not come along..."

"The Peredhil," Thranduil said between his teeth. He turned his back on his son and moved away.

"Elladan and Elrohir," Legolas explained. "They are not known as half-elves."

"But they should be," Thranduil said, glancing at him over his shoulder, pacing through the room. "They have more mixed blood than their father does."

"But they are not called that," Legolas said, disappointed with his father's insinuation. Something he had always admired in the king's personality was his aversion to any kind of preconceptions. He didn't understand why he could not be like that when referring to his friends. "Only Lord Elrond holds that title that I know of."

The king tilted his face toward his son, his expression different from any other Legolas had seen until now. He stopped his walking. "Did you meet him?" he asked without turning.

"Who?"

"The Peredhel?"

"Yes... the volume on your table was gifted by him."

Thranduil looked at the book and Legolas watched his father's face harden. Without saying a word, Thranduil moved quickly, picking it up and walking toward the fireplace in rapid and decisive steps. When Legolas realized what his father was intending to do, he ran until he stood in front of him.

"Get out of my way, boy!"

"Ada no, please. Have mercy. It's just a book and it has… it has such beautiful portraits of him. You have not even looked at it."

"Coming from that miserable half-elf it must be full of lies."

"It is not. Why should he have given it to me, ada?"

"Just to provoke me. Why was there a book about my father on the shelves of the library in that damn city?"

"That is the reason Lord Elrond made it a gift to me. He said that the correct place for it was here."

"Curse him! I will show him where the right place is for anyone who dares to spew lies about my father." Thranduil was angered even more, pushing his son to the floor and throwing the volume into the fireplace. Legolas' eyes widened and a fit of madness overwhelmed him. He reached toward the fire to rescue it. Luckily, the king realized his intention and, falling atop Legolas, held him with all his strength so that he could not do it.

"No! No! Ada, please…" he screamed trying to get loose from his father, who held him in a strong, firm hug.

Finally, when the pages were completely overrun by flames, Thranduil lessened his hold on his son, but did not let him go, his wet eyes watching his past being consumed by the fire.

They stayed there on the floor for several moments. When Thranduil saw that Legolas was finally calming down, he took a deep breath.

"You have to listen to me, Legolas," he said, his voice cold and distant. "Every time you do not listen, you suffer and make the people around you suffer. I told you not to have connections to anything. Nothing in your life. Nothing but your weapons. Nothing that tells of your past. It is something we learned well with the Silvan people. It's what can guarantee our survival."

Legolas remained silent, remembering that he'd had to hide the picture Elrohir had given him for the same reason. After his mother's death, his father took his theory even more seriously, telling him to empty his past and his present of anything of his own that he cherished or that would be too precious to him to be lost, or it could be used against him by an enemy. He had to do that to preserve their future. He disagreed, and he understood the reason for the idea, but it had never hurt him so much or as deeply as it did today.

Thranduil gently pushed Legolas a little away from him, examining his face. "Our belongings talk about us," the king explained. "Nothing can be so important to us that it can be used as a weapon against us. Things cannot be more important than people are. Nothing can be more important to us than our people. They are our reason for fighting. No one must know who we really are or what truly drives us. No one should know our strengths and flaws. No one needs to know our names, our deeds. Only when our enemies are aware of their imminent deaths at our hands—and only at that moment—can they know who we are and what we are capable of.

Legolas lowered his head. He wanted to explain that the people of Imladris were not an enemy. That was why he'd lowered his guard, why he revealed his name to them. But he knew his father would not understand. His tough and lonely life had turned the king into a truly cautious elf.

"The only thing that you are allowed to keep as yours, senseless elf," Thranduil said, instinctively bringing Legolas closer to him, "is what you have here." He placed his open hand on his son's chest. "And what you have here." He put his hand on Legolas' forehead then. "Those are things no one can steal or use against you, since they are well guarded."

Legolas looked at his father. His eyes were no longer that intense green of anger, and they were as a quiet creek in the middle of the forest. His anger was gone and it left him in the bitter mood that was always characteristic of him. Legolas could not explain, but, at that moment, it did not matter anymore. He sought to draw as close as he could to him, trying to feel his heartbeat as he did when he was an elfling. When he felt a chill run through his father, and he tried to move away as he always did when Legolas wanted to have any contact with him, the prince did not allow it, doing something he rarely did, wrapping his arms around him.

"Ada..." he said in a shaky voice. Thranduil did not answer; he just leaned his head back so that he could look at him and waited for the rest. Few were the words coming out of his mouth at times like this. Legolas knew it well. "Ada... I have seen the rain."

Thranduil frowned slightly and lowered his head, looking at the young elf out of the corner of his eye. Even trying to disguise it, his lack of understanding was clear.

"I had never seen the rain before," Legolas explained. Elbereth, his father didn't know that. How many things did his father not know about him, he thought, and he watched Thranduil raise his eyebrows in an even less efficient attempt to disguise his surprise. Finally, his lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile.

"So you had this experience for the first time?"

"Yes..." Legolas gave a weak smile. "The rain fell all over me..."

"And how did you feel?"

Legolas thought for a moment. He did not expect that kind of question from his father. "I cannot explain," he said, leaning his head on the king's chest again and closing his eyes. It was hard to put into words what he'd felt. He did not know if he really wanted to.

Thranduil was silent for a moment, and then put his hand back on his son's chest. "This experience reflects exactly what I was just talking about—what I always say to you, boy. It is something that cannot be taken from you. Do you understand?"

Legolas looked down. He did not want to return to that subject. In spite of what had just happened with the book, they were now having a peaceful moment together. "Yes..." he forced his tired voice to reply.

They were silent for several more moments. Legolas tried to ignore it, enjoying this rare closeness to his father. However, before long his heartless conscience began reminding him of what he still had to do.

"Ada..." he said, without moving. "Forgive me... for disappointing you in the forest. Forgive me for taking the wrong paths, directly against your orders."

Thranduil sighed quietly, his hand still resting on Legolas' chest, as if feeling his son's breath slow its pace. They stayed there until the king's silence became unbearable. Legolas knew what it meant and could not ignore it any longer.

"You will not forgive me... will you?"

Thranduil inhaled deeply, pulling his son up so they could sit face to face.

"You know I would not be helping you if I did that," he said, and when the young elf looked down once more, he held his arm firmly again. "Legolas?"

"I understand," Legolas said, composing himself the best he could. "I cannot forgive myself. How can I expect you to?"

"Senseless elf. It is not a simple judgment—who is guilty, who is not. If I forgive you, you will forget it easily and that is what troubles me." The king shook Legolas' arm slightly. "I do not want you to suffer like a child, who does not know what he has done. I want you to think about your mistakes as an adult and learn from them. Do you understand?"

Legolas nodded, but said nothing.

Thranduil's piercing eyes met those of his son again. "If I forgive you, you will forget those who perished, you will forget the wrong path, the wrong decisions, the ignored instructions. I will not forgive you, Legolas, because other paths come, other elves will be threatened and, next time, I want you to strictly follow what I command of you. I want to see done exactly what I ordered you to do... Is that clear?"

"Yes... sir..." Legolas said, trying his best to finish their meeting acting as his father wished for him to.

Thranduil stood and offered his hand to his son to help him up. Without looking at the young captain before him, he said, his voice back to the austerity that marked his usual tone, "You will pass the season in your room and think about hearing me better next time."

"After the fall of Ost-in-Edhil in 1697, the Second Age, Elrond Peredhel, son of Eärendil the Mariner and Elwing the White, led the Elves of Eregion to the north and founded the refuge of Imladris—also known as Rivendell..."

Legolas reread the paragraph quietly and dropped his shoulders, staring absently at the pages he had read so many times that he'd lost count, since he had been banished to his room. It was lucky for him that his father had not seen the other book he had brought back with him from Imladris. He was already troubled thinking about how to tell the Lord of Rivendell what happened to the volume that was given him—in fact he was not even sure if he would do that. He had no idea what he would say if the precious volume of Rivendell had had the same end.

The prince shuddered when he thought of what would have happened if the king's eyes had found the Lord of Rivendell's book. Ilúvatar, he really was lucky, he thought in one deep breath, while pushing the book under one of the large pillows on his bed. His father had said he would stay here for one season, but in fact, as of this day, he had completed six long months here. Six months without seeing the sun, without touching anything green, without talking to anyone but the good Nildiele who brought him meals every day, but was not allowed to stay too long.

He was used to solitude, though he could already see his limits approaching—the despair would soon be knocking on his door.

He closed his eyes tightly, remembering he had been in this situation before, more than once, more than twice, more than three times, for a variety of reasons. It took him a long time to finally realize what he could do and say, and what he could not, to avoid putting himself in confinement. He had been doing well, until the conflict in the forest, until that unexpected meeting.

He was about to do something that was another habit he had developed as a child during these periods of punishment, something which he had done endless times as well. He rose with a muffled groan, walking across the room to the large side cabinet that held his things.

He opened it, only to re-enact the strange routine: deceiving the longing.

Inside it, hidden behind hangers and clothes, was the picture Elrohir had painted of him when he was still a child, sitting between Arwen and Elladan. He looked at those faces fondly, trying to find all traces of Elrohir in his twin's face, trying to remember that day, to paint in his mind the rest of that scene that wasn't captured in that image. If he gazed at the picture long enough, saw every single detail on the cherished faces of his friends, perhaps he could deceive the longing—perhaps he could think, if for only a moment, that they were here with him, that he wasn't alone in this room.

He had done that his entire childhood and many years when he was an adult as well. But recently, while looking at the painting, he found himself remembering a more recent experience. He was surrounded by memories of the Last Homely House, the incredible kingdom of the Lord of Rivendell. And although he regretted not having seen his beautiful friend Undómiel, he still thought that the significant experience had been worth the punishment received. Yes, he would face many other penalties like this if it were the only way to see his friends again.

Legolas sighed, sitting on the floor of the closet and pulling a bundle of papers carefully wrapped in a soft cloth from behind some of his boots. This was another package gone unnoticed by his father's eyes. Another package the prince had opened and closed countless times since he had been confined here.

"Sit here, elfling," Elrohir commanded in a playful tone, trying to organize several papers he had put on his bed to find a free place by his side for Legolas to sit. "I've got some things to show you."

Legolas walked around Elladan's bed and sat down where he was instructed to.

Elrohir smiled at him. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed as he shuffled the papers around, putting them into some sort of order.

"What is all this, Ro?" he asked curiously.

"It's a promise I made to you a long time ago. Do you remember?"

Legolas wondered at the question. Promise? He could not remember any promise Elrohir had made to him. He then pulled one of the papers from the stack that Elrohir was trying to organize and looked at it.

"Elbereth, it is perfect!" he exclaimed, as soon as he laid his eyes on it. It was a drawing of the main house viewed from the square in front of it. It was traced only in subtle shades of gray. However, looking at it closely, he noticed that Elrohir had not only worked on the architectural aspects of the place, he had drawn people and other details behind the windows. He could not figure out who they were or what exactly they were doing, but that added more mystery and magic to the final work.

"Do you like it?" Elladan asked. He approached after a brief exchange of looks with his brother. He sat on his bed, from where he could not see the sketches, which he probably had seen many times and knew by heart. He seemed more interested in reading the reactions they brought to his blond friend's face, than to share the view that the two other elves had.

"Like is not the right word," Legolas replied, taking every drawing one by one and looking at them carefully. There were many scenes of the stalls in the stable, with Elrochian and his elves caring for the animals. Elrohir had drawn the horses one by one. There were also two beautiful sketches of the healing house with the gorgeous Lady Idhrenniel and her aromatic plants and experiments. At the bottom of the pile, there were some scenes in the greenhouse – in one of them Legolas could see someone in one of the corridors he supposed to be Elladan. Under this beautiful work, there was another, portraying a library scene where Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel were talking in front of a big window. The last one was the most beautiful of all: In the back garden, Arwen did embroidery sitting on a bench.

Legolas sighed deeply, passing his fingers over the wistful image.

"I miss her," he said.

"Me too…" Elrohir glanced up at Legolas and smiled sadly. "She will be upset to know you were here and she was not here to welcome you. It was her dream to show you this city."

"I would have enjoyed it," Legolas said as he imagined himself, still a child, walking with Arwen through all the places he'd seen in Rivendell. Hearing her nightingale voice telling him stories and laughing at his disappointed face when the stories ended. How he loved her laugh!

"You will see her again," Elladan said. "We will arrange it. Trust me."

Legolas just nodded, offering a sad smile to him. He sighed again then, looking down to pass his eyes over all those beautiful pictures one last time.

"Elbereth, I can't tell you which one I like most," he said, as if talking to himself.

"I think it is good that you like them," Elrohir said, taking them from him again and organizing them in a stack on top of a white piece of fabric. "For I am dying to get rid of all this paper that only takes up space here in our room. I was just waiting for you to see them and..."

"What do you mean?" Legolas asked, waking up from his nostalgic state. "What will you do with them?"

"I will not do anything with them," the younger twin said as he shrugged, pretending indifference. "And you can toss them into the fire if you want to. After all, they are all yours, they always have been. I just could never give them to you as was my intention when I did them."

Legolas was speechless with surprise, seeming to be disconnected from the world while he mentally repeated the words he had heard and unveiled their intentions. Then he felt the weight of the papers in his lap and saw Elrohir throw himself back on his pillow, casually closing his eyes. Happiness overtook the prince's face, watching the shadow of smile that was drawn on the twin's lips now, reflecting the satisfaction and peace of a promise finally fulfilled.

Legolas breathed deeply, running his fingers over the last drawing in the pile one more time, after seeing them all. They were all there, except the drawings of Lady Idhrenniel, which Legolas offered to his bodyguard as a reward for his loyalty before the king that day. He remembered Thavanian's big smile, and his melancholy look at the drawings. Now it was not just he, who missed someone terribly from that beautiful place.

Ilúvatar, he felt sorry for him. It is said that, in times of war, elves do not fall in love. That was not true at all, but Thavanian had to pretend it was, as the wise Lady elf in Imladris also did. But love is not something easy to hide. Any kind of love.

Legolas closed his eyes. Yes, he felt sorry for Thavanian. How hurtful was missing someone. He already faced this feeling several times, and he knew it was a cruel enemy. However, at that moment, he was feeling more vulnerable than ever to that monster's bitter claws. He just hoped his friend was not feeling as terrible as he was.

Legolas exhaled, wrapping up the valuable papers again. Before putting them away, he brought them close to his chest for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to forget, at least for a few seconds, where he was, why he was there and that he would probably still have to deal with this seclusion for a bit longer.

Elbereth, sometimes he felt his father should hate him. He could not blame him. He still had not forgiven himself for what he had done. When his eyes closed at night, he still saw his lost friends, heard their voices, their songs. If he was his father, he would hate him deeply, just as he sometimes hated himself.

There was a gentle tap on the door, and Legolas quickly put the package away, jumping out of the closet again, arranging the clothes in place and locking the door. He hid the key in one of the pots on his bedside table.

He knew who it was. The good Nildiele bringing his dinner. Valar, he had given up telling her he was not hungry, so he just accepted the food she brought with a grateful smile and threw it in the fireplace as soon as the cook left the room. He felt an immense remorse for doing that, but he could not eat and he was unwilling to try to convince the gentle Nildiele that his absence of hunger was only because he didn't spend enough energy in this enclosure to need to replace it.

"Come in, please," he instructed, sitting with a weary sigh on his bed and lowering his face.

The door opened slowly and Legolas pulled his feet up onto the bed, crossing his legs beneath him. He did not even look at the door. Maybe if he did not say anything, it would keep Nildiele from asking the questions she always asked and save him from the lies he had to provide in answer to them.

"This bedroom is still very unsightly."

When he heard the voice saying those words, he recognized it, even though he was telling himself that he was surely the victim of some strange dream.

But if it was a dream, it was the best dream he ever remembered having.

"Look, there's not even a picture on the wall? Where are your drawings, elfling?" he heard the voice asking, coming from the half-open door, before which two identical figures smiled at him.

"Elrohir... Elladan..." he stammered, stunned and bewildered., He'd been alone in this room too long. Was he starting to see things that weren't here? His face paled as if he were seeing ghosts. "Tell me... that... Tell me that you are here... I can't... I ... I've been here for so long... Tell me, please, that I'm not... That I'm not dreaming..."

Elrohir breathed deeply, his fists clenched unconsciously. He was containing emotions that only he knew of. By his side, Elladan shook his head with a patient and affectionate smile. Legolas moved his legs slowly, rising with difficulty, not knowing if he could really stand. He remembered the older twin's promise: "If you cannot come, we will go to the forest." But he still did not feel quite awake or convinced that his mind was not deceiving him, as it had so many times during all the years he longed to see the two brothers crossing his threshold again.

Elrohir was the first to move, to make the dream come true. He stepped inside and raised his arms to him.

"Come on. If you do not give me a hug, elfling, at this very moment, you'll never have me as a visitor in your life again."

Legolas felt his heart beat faster, overwhelmed by an unexpected feeling of joy. He then threw himself into his friend's arms, holding out a hand to Elladan to approach as well. The older twin did not hesitate, wrapping the two other elves in his strong embrace.

At that moment was drawn, as if by magic, a scene from a past that, for so many years, Legolas had just kept pretending was happening. However, from that season on, this scene would be transformed into one of those beautiful memories his father had been talking about, ones that do not need to be locked in closets, ones that no evil can take away from you. The image of a moment of reunion and freedom. An image that time cannot erase.

From a gap in the door, two green eyes watched the scene carefully. A small and resigned smile formed on his lips, just before he turned and silently went away, walking from the long hall and returning to the solitude of his own existence.

This is the end of this story, but I am already working on my sequel of it. Hope you will like it. Now, I wish to say thanks to every kind person who left me a review during the time I spent posting this fic. Hope I haven't forgotten anyone. Many thanks to:

a-mild-looking-sky, Aerotes, Animejessi, Astrid zz, BlackMinx17, A Diamond in the Rough, Callisto Feather Hope or Celebmiriel Of Imladris, Certh, consulting-gallifreyan, doctorepic or IndieBlue, DreamingIn2Eternity, Elf With Redbull, Emily V:, Emma, Edengwen, Eigengrau16161d, Evereven, Guest, HelloDenmark, Horsegirl01, Ishi, KaribookWorm, junebug1234, Just Someone, Kisekiii, LalaithElerrina, Laureiel, Lia Whyteleafe, LesFangirl24601, LettyHyuuga, Lizzen Lilya9, Malleus Beneficarum, MadPie, maupe, MissKim2b, Nocx, nyx thranduillon, Paula M, LARRISSA-HAYLIE, Pooch2010, Reader, Ruby Cloud, Salome Maranya. Seven, shadow1314, Schattenjagd, SindarinElf, SivanShemesh, SparkyTAS, soccerlover91, Sunnix, Teapot of transformation, Win Lockwood, THiaLieN, youmeandlokid, XxNaiXx, world-classgeek, WhyIsThatClever, NatheRiver, Sarifina Filth, , queenrj, Nako13yeh, ForeverRainingFire, Green Eyes and Blue Insanity, DaughterofThranduil1701, Kate Chase, ReHit, yaruna, kei, anniehamilton, Carisma Targaryen, silivren el sila, Beccissss, PawsPrints, shiskanae242, Vanadesse Sadron, UnnamedElement, sarathestarkidranger, Handles14, attheturnofthetide, Bellasiel, RoboTitaness, Aviendha91, Elebriwien, Beyond-infinities, Vanadesse and le, careless7, Shadow of Mirkwood, narylfiel, Emoemo, splatteredpaints, Mystfire, Nimrodel Lorellin, Nameless, Baggers, Bluefire21, Mythologyrox, Krissy, Pass, WhistlingWolf.

And I want to say thanks, from the deepest of my heart, to Puxinette. When I met her I met more than a beta. I met a patient teacher, I met a wonderful friend.