Title: To be a Prince

Author: Lusse Eldalion

Summary: The elven realm of Greenwood has its Prince once more. But not everyone is as happy as the King and Queen of the realm by having Legolas back. Some elves think that after so many years captive by the treacherous elf Vanwe, their Prince has had too much contact with the shadow to be trustworthy. Sequel to 'New Meetings'.

A/N: Hello everyone! I wanted to apologize, because I planned to post this a long time ago, but this past months have been pretty rough for me and I have been kept away from FanFiction due to some personal problems. However, I found some peaceful days to write this and well… I hope you will all like it! The whole story is already written and in process of editing, but I can't make promises on updating days. Also, I'm not really sure about this new fic, so it depends on how it is received on FanFiction that I will hurry more or less on editing (yep, it depends on you that I update soon so… let me know what you think!). Thank you every one for reading! Enjoy the story!

As some of you may know, this is the sequel for a previous story called 'New meetings'. I highly recommend reading it before this one, but in case you do not have the time I wrote a short summary of what happened on it (it is full of spoilers, so if you plan to read 'New meetings' do not read it for your own good!)

From 'New meetings': After being kidnapped by Vanwe, a treacherous elf, when he is no more than seven years old (in human reckon), Legolas is forced to live with him in the shadows for a long time. Although all the elven realms in Middle Earth are looking for him, he is not found until a party of men rescue him from the hands of orcs and men after a battle in Vanwe's stronghold. With no memory of his past, Legolas tells the men his parents were killed and he is brought to Bacetal, where he is raised as one of the King of the city, Jaimy, sons, along with Nyme, his new human brother. Some years later, Nyme and Legolas are attacked by a Nazgûl, resulting in the man being killed and Legolas arriving by pure chance to Imladris. There, he heals under the care of Lord Elrond, who recognizes him shortly after he arrives. The Lord tells him his true identity and calls for Thranduil. After a second encounter with the Nazgûl, Legolas agrees to go to Greenwood in order to meet his mother and the realm.

Special thanks to my wonderful Beta (you are the best!), to the readers of 'New meetings' and to my family. If this story has been written is thanks to all the people who have encouraged me to. I love you all.

Chapter One: Suspicion

It took Legolas a few seconds to become completely accustomed to the light that filtered through the curtains and brightened the whole room. Missing the enormous ropes that prevented the rays of sunlight from entering into his bedroom back in Bacetal, the man city, Legolas grunted in disgust and turned over.

However, he didn't try to fall asleep again, for the elf in charge of waking him up would not be late. The Prince smiled. Even when waking someone up the elves were delicate. First, there came two almost imperceptible knocks on the door. Some seconds later, two more, this time with more strength. And that went on until the elf inside the chambers opened the door or said something to indicate he -or she- was awake. Legolas had thought an animal was scratching his door the first day. He had not been able to hide his surprise at the sight of an immaculately dressed elf announcing that breakfast would be served at the Royal Room in half an hour. He had yet to explain the 'wake up' elf, as he had named him, he wouldn't mind if he punched the door or yelled his name in order to get him awake. In fact, Legolas would prefer it. But he suspected that would make the other elf uncomfortable, so he had decided to wait until everyone was more familiar with him.

Legolas squinted when he heard the first two knocks, but they were so soft that he wondered if they had really happened or if they had been a figment of his imagination. There. Two more.

The day had began.

xXx

Once Legolas was fully dressed, he opened the door and smiled at the standing elf there.

"It's not necessary for you to wait for me every day, Daeron. I can manage to find the Royal Room myself."

"King Thranduil asked me personally to do it, my Prince." He simply answered.

"And I'm asking you personally to stop doing so. And, please, call me Legolas."

But Legolas knew it would be fruitless. For the past whole week, he had been trying to persuade the servant to stop treating him with such formality.

"But, my Prince... it's your title, after all. And I'm obliged to obey your father's orders. He is our King."

Legolas sighed, discontent.

"Yes, I guess it is my title." He did not try to hide the discontentment. "And he is your King."

They arrived at the Royal Room, in which, Legolas was sure, both his parents would already be waiting for him. It still felt odd to think of those two elves as his parents, but he had assumed he would have to get accustomed to it. It was just one more thing among a thousand details he would have to grow familiar with.

He heard the 'click' that announced the door had been opened and came into the Royal Room. Even having already been in the realm for two weeks, he still couldn't help but let his eyes wander around the room. He was so used to the small one in which he used to have breakfast back in Bacetal that the astonishing high cellars and windows that adorned the elvish room kept impressing him. He advanced quietly to the table. There, his parents were waiting, as he had correctly guessed. He gave a short nod to his father and a quick smile to his mother as he sat. They both received him with broad smiles. As soon as he was settled down, the servants started to bring the food. There were things he missed from Bacetal, of course, but food was not one of them. Elvish cooks knew what they were doing. As usual, he helped himself some bread and spread some delicious red strawberry ham. Then, he poured milk on his cup.

"So, Legolas?" His father said to catch his attention. "Are you ready to start your training?"

"Quite eager, indeed." He answered. "I've been feeling pretty useless lately, not being able to do anything."

"You know Lord Elrond advised rest after you... 'encounter' with the Nazgûl." The King said in an clarifying tone.

"I know, but it doesn't prevent me from feeling so."

He saw his mother smile and noticed her eyes fixed on him. She had been doing that a lot. The elleth looked at him as if trying to decide whether he was really there, sitting in front of her, or it was just an illusion. He felt sympathetic. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he brought the cup to his mouth. He recalled the moment when, two weeks ago, his mother had seen him for the first time in many years.

The party from Imladris had intentionally arrived at night to Greenwood, so not many elves would be able to notice the presence of a strange blond elf who looked remarkably like the King. That way, they would avoid the rumors. Once in the palace, Thranduil had asked Legolas to wait while the King told Enery, the Queen, the turn of events. The Prince remembered the hurried steps that had come from the corridor just a few minutes after. A beautiful elleth had opened the door, with a desperate look in her eyes. She was dressed casually, with a light green dress and her hair loose, falling upon her shoulders. Thranduil had appeared behind her shortly after that. Enery had looked at Legolas, directly on his eyes, for some seconds. Then, with a cry, she had ran and embraced him. Legolas returned the hug, both for his mother's and his own sake, for he had been looking for that meeting for a very long time.

"Who will train him?" Enery asked her husband, taking Legolas out of his thoughts.

"The Weapons Master, Aradan."

"Really?" She raised her right eyebrow, as she turned to look directly at Legolas. "He is the best warrior we have, ion-nin. The captain of your father's army and the King's escort general, as well as the Weapons Master."

"And a dear friend of us too." Added Thranduil.

"Is he? But I've already been here for two weeks and I've not seen him yet. Not even at night, when all the Lords are invited to have dinner here."

"He was away in a journey to the eastern lands. There were reports of movement among the orcs there and he went to be sure they wouldn't enter Greenwood. But he came back last night and said he would be waiting for you."

"I shouldn't tarry, then." Legolas said, finishing his breakfast.

"Go. He'll be in the main courtyard. Ask Daeron to accompany you."

"I can go by myself. I don't need anyone to constantly watch my steps."

"I'd rather you went with him, if only a few more days."

"But I'm not going to get lost." The Prince complained.

"Legolas." Thranduil said, looking sternly at his son. The Prince sighed, resigned.

"Fine. Whatever. But I'm not a baby anymore, and you should accept it." He left the room.

Enery half smiled and watched Legolas closing the door. Then, she said:

"He is right, you know. He is not a baby. And, according to what you've told me about his fight with the Nazgûl, he is a very capable warrior." Even hard it could be, the Queen had learnt to see that her child was not so anymore.

"He is not used to our customs yet. And he isn't used to some elves' ways of thinking either." He pronounced the last sentence carefully and making sure no servant was hearing them.

"You think our people do not trust him?" Enery asked, with a new worried look in her eyes. "Thranduil, you do not think he is in danger, do you?"

"I don't think he is in immediate danger, but you know the hearts of some elves. They won't trust him until they know him better. After all, he has been in touch with the shadow for most his life. They will be suspicious. But do not fret," He added, taking his wife's hand. "I'm not taking any chances. He will be protected."

xXx

"Wait, Prince Legolas." A voice sounded, accompanied by the hurried steps of an elf coming down the corridor. "You should have told me you were going out."

"Sweet Valar... can't you leave me alone for a second?" Legolas said, although he stopped and waited for Daeron to reach him.

"No, my Prince. That's indeed my main purpose, although tiring as it may seem to you."

"No, not tiring. Exhausting." Legolas regretted his words as soon as they had left his mouth. He glanced at the servant and saw he was downcast. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

"Don't." Said the elf, waving the apology off. "It's fine. And I understand you find my company rather unpleasant but... I made mistakes in the past which had terrible consequences. I won't make them again."

"Mistakes?" Legolas frowned, stopping Daeron by putting a hand on his arm. "What mistakes? And do not think I find your presence 'unpleasant' at all." He would have liked to reassure the elf better, but he couldn't take his mind off the other elf words. Daeron didn't answer, staring at something that Legolas could not see, lost in the sea of memories. "Daeron?"

The elf shook his head and pushed Legolas to keep walking.

"Let's go." He said hurriedly. "Or you'll be late."

xXx

Lord Aradan had been waiting for some time before he saw Legolas coming. He examined him in the distance. The elf had changed, but for good. He was tall, and surely he would grow taller. He was clearly muscled, due to years of training, of course. And his walk indicated that he was a good warrior: his firm steps; his shoulders slightly drawn back and his straight posture. The Master hummed with appreciation. He waited until they were in front of him and smiled:

"Welcome back, Legolas."

"Thank you, my Lord." The Prince said, nodding a salute. While teaching him the fighting style of the elves, the Weapons Master would have the 'privilege' of calling him by his name, without the title. Legolas would have to treat him the respect and courtesy due to a teacher.

"Daeron." The Master smiled to the other elf. Legolas thought he saw a strange bright look in his eyes, but it was gone before he could think twice.

"My Lord." Answered the servant.

"So," The Master bent and selected a pair of knives among the many weapons that had been laid on a cloth on the floor. He handed them to Legolas. "I've been told you are pretty good with men's knives. Let's see how you manage with the elvish ones."

Legolas walked behind the Lord, as he tried the weight of the weapons. They were lighter and longer than he was used to, as well as slimmer. The two elves reached a green where a group of elves were standing. The voice of the first training session of the Prince had spread. Legolas noticed their eyes fixed on him and caught some words of their conversations: 'Nazgûl' and 'brother'. The Master approached Legolas and whispered:

"Don't pay attention to them. Concentrate on the fight."

Legolas nodded shortly, making himself ignore the uncomfortable lump that had formed in his throat at the memory of Nyme. He breathed deeply and took a better grasp of his knives.

Those elves wanted a show? Let them have it.

xXx

Thranduil stood by the window, watching his son fight against Lord Aradan. Legolas had a style he had never seen before. He was not as graceful or agile as the Master, and his strokes were too strong, making the knives look like they would fly away from his hand at every stroke. But he managed to steady them and they were there in time to stop Lord Aradan's sword. He smiled, with a hint of pride. He observed the small groups of elves that had gathered to enjoy the skill demonstration. Had it been another elf, there would be none. But it was Legolas who had the knives. Legolas, the Lost Prince who had fought a Nazgûl and survived. You didn't see that everyday.

Thranduil flinched when the Master, in a burst of quickness, dodged Legolas's attack. That left the Prince unsteady and the Lord took advantage of it. He turned and lifted his sword, prepared to deliver the stroke which would finish the fight. But Legolas was not there anymore.

The King watched, eyes as wide as they could be, the shocked expression of Lord Aradan when he felt Legolas' knives tapping his back. The Master dropped the sword and turned. Although Thranduil was too far to tell, he was fairly sure everyone had fallen into silence. That last movement had been impressive. Almost too impressive. The King had not even seen Legolas move, just appearing behind his opponent.

"How...?" Lord Aradan started, with a smile of incredulity on his face.

Legolas shrugged "Quick reflexes."

The Master stared at him, his grin gradually turning into one of satisfaction until he let a laugh go. He approached Legolas and patted his back.

"Well, well, young Legolas. It looks like you'll need less training than we thought!" He cheerfully said. Then he looked at the other elves. "And? Did you enjoy the spectacle?"

The Lord received many affirmative looks and smiles, although he could notice some elves with a grim expression in their eyes, which made his grin fade. Without letting Legolas go, he looked for Daeron. He found him observing the scene not too far away and signaled him to come.

"Legolas." He said. "Today was just a trial to see how you would defend yourself with your weapons of choice and, let me tell you, you did it pretty well. But tomorrow we'll start with the sword and the bow. I'll teach you the way of elves with the knives as well. Now go with Daeron."

xXx

Thranduil knew Aradan would know where to find him, so he didn't bother to go to the study he normally used to speak to his captains. He had admired his son's skill as much as the other elves had and he was sure it would be the topic of talk for some time. It had been a delightful surprise to know Legolas could fight that well. He had greatly enjoyed the training, always being a pleasure to watch two good warriors in action. He remembered, with a sad smile, that he had once been one of them. Before his father's death, he had been able to train and fight as much as he wanted to. Now that he was King, there was no time for that.

His eyes turned somber, and he felt an unusual cold chilling him. There, in that same green, he had once sparred with a friend. It had been in a day pretty much like that one, with the sun partially covered by clouds and a pleasant breeze moving the tops of trees. Thranduil remembered it well, for that was the morning in which everything had changed.

xXx

"How on Middle Earth do you plan to protect Greenwood if you can't even protect yourself, Prince Thranduil?"

Thranduil clenched his teeth and sent an attack towards his opponent, who was already waiting for it and dodged the other elf's sword with a graceful movement.

"You seem to fail to remember I have been away on patrol and I got home just yesterday, Vanwe. You, however, were here, sitting and whining about that tiny scratch on your arm. You are well rested."

"And injured. Don't forget that tiny scratch had spider venom on it." Vanwe hit the Prince's sword with strength, but Thranduil had a good grasp on it. Greenwood's heir took advantage of the wasted strength of the other and redirected his weapon, so his blade was upon Vanwe in a matter of seconds. Smiling, he let his sword down, knowing his friend's weapon would be there at time to stop his. The clash of the metals confirmed Thraduil's thoughts.

"Valar, Thranduil. Where did that come from?"

"Do not think I don't know how to use my weapons, Vanwe. After all, how can I protect Greenwood if I can't protect myself?" He said with a smirk. Vanwe opened his mouth, an answer almost leaving his lips, when they heard someone come.

"Prince Thranduil! Lord Vanwe!"An elf ran through the frontal courtyard to the green. His face was flushed due to the haste he seemed to be in.

Both friends shared a worried glance with different scenarios playing in their minds. They walked to meet the elf.

"Calm yourself and tell us what happened." Ordered Thranduil as soon as they caught up with the messenger. The Prince's heart was racing. His father, Oropher, had been in Esgaroth in a meeting with the men's chief and he was due to return that same day. If something had happened during the journey...

"It's the Esgaroth party, my Prince. They were attacked on their way here." Thranduil felt blood leaving his face.

"Go on. Go on, for Valar's sake, don't stop there." He hurried, strongly gripping the elf's arm.

"They just arrived. I... I think the King's fine, but..." He looked at Vanwe. "I've been told something happened to Lord Aeglos."

The relief Thranduil had felt when he knew Oropher was fine was immediately replaced for a new anguish. He turned, knowing his friend would need him if his father had been injured. Vanwe was clearly fighting to keep the calm.

"How...?" He asked, with dry mouth.

"I don't know, my Lord. They are in the Healing Ward. I was sent to lead you there."

Thranduil nodded. "Lead us, then." He touched Vanwe's shoulder, leting him know he was there for him.

xXx

Aradan entered without knocking. He didn't need to, Thranduil would already be waiting for him. He found the King looking through the window at something on the green. He hadn't moved when he entered, so the Master supposed he hadn't heard him coming in. He cleared his throat. Thranduil turned and welcomed him with a smile.

"Aradan, I hadn't heard you coming."

"Yes, I noticed." He let himself fall into the nearer armchair. "So? I'm assuming you saw the fight from here."

"I wouldn't have missed it for all the gold in Middle Earth. Quite a spectacle."

"Indeed. Your son has a strange style. Strange but effective, nevertheless. I think he earned some respect today, after all, he has overcame the Weapons Master."

"Do not discredit yourself. You didn't know he would move that fast."

"I should have. He was quick in his youth, but I hadn't realized how much his skill had grown until the fight. Whoever trained him did a good job." He eyed the King, who breathed deeply and said:

"I'm afraid we won't want to thank him for his training Legolas, Aradan. Vanwe was his teacher."

Lord Aradan sighed. "I feared he would be. I recognized some of his favorite movements in Legolas's fighting. Still, he did a good job."

"Yes, I guess he did, hard it is to recognize." Thranduil sat by his friend. "Aradan," He added, in a lower voice. "What about the other elves? You know, the ones who..."

"The ones who don't think Legolas trustworthy." The Master finished, nodding. "I saw some of them in the training. I think they were not too pleased at his ability, but they did nothing. I have the Prince well guarded, Thranduil, do not fret."

"I know you do, mellon-nin, but I can't help but feel uneasy about it. You know what happened last time someone plotted against us."

"I remember very well, my King. It was a terrible affair with terrible consequences. Innocent people paid for it."

"But no one suffered it as much as Lord Aeglos did. I actually pity Vanwe for what happened to his father. To be thought a traitor when he was the more loyal subject my father could have..."

"And what happened after that."

Thranduil nodded and sighed. He massaged his temples.

"It won't happen again, Thranduil. I will take care of it. Your son will be safe."

"I know, mellon-nin. Thank you."

xXx

Legolas walked beside Daeron, who had been asked by Lord Aradan to accompany the Prince to his room. He was pensive, still thinking of the fight.

"You are very silent, my Prince."

Legolas smiled. "Don't mind me. Where did you go during the training?"

"Nowhere. I watched the whole fight. Rather impressive, if I may."

"You were there?" Legolas was astonished. "Why do I have the feeling you never let me out of your sight? Don't you have more important things to do?"

"Oh yes, my Prince. But..."

"I know, I know." Legolas waved his hand. "You made your mistakes and you are not letting them happen again. Daeron, you never said, what mistakes were you talki-"

Legolas was interrupted when an elleth carrying a tray stumbled. Daeron, with remarkable reflex, bent and prevented her from falling, which made his cloak lift.

Legolas froze. Realizing his mistake, the servant let the elleth go and readjusted the cloth, but it was too late. He looked at Legolas, knowing the Prince had seen what he had hidden under the cloak.

"It is only as a precaution." He tried.

"Yes, I'm sure of it" Legolas said, cautiously. "But still I find rather strange that a servant must carry a sword inside the palace. And hidden beneath his cloak."

Daeron just clenched his teeth.

And? Good? Bad? I take every single opinion into account, so please, review! :)