Introduction

This is spiraled from a thought of Legolas's age to this. Truly we don't know much about him only that he's Thranduil's son, a good archer, and being a warrior. We don't even know his hair colour! This fic will take many liberties and includes some of my thoughts on Legolas and his family. I know others have their own ideas of him and I know my version of him isn't everyone's version. I respect your opinion and ideas, so please respect mine.

I'm ignoring that Elves are physically grown at 50. Legolas is still growing and is physically 9 or 10

Disclaimer: I am not Tolkien, this is for fun and practice

~ o0o ~

The forest of Greenwood had been darkened into Mirkwood, becoming a dangerous place to travel through not to say anything about dwelling there. The trees, once so vibrant and beautiful had been corrupted into a darkened version of their former selves. Odd magic twisted travelers perception, leaving them vulnerable to the spiders that preyed on travelers and the wood's inhabitants alike. With their home becoming dangerous, few dared to travel through the darkened forest, their trails once so well trodden on became deserted fell into neglect.

With the corruption of their home the Woodelves fought against the darkened creatures, and it forged them into dangerous warriors. Their energies concentrated on purging there evil from their beloved Eryn Galen, and they refused to leave her in this dark time. The memories of Elves are long and their perception of time was odd to mortals, for though it had been well over a thousand years since their battle begun it seemed not as long as it did to the other races. Men and Dwarves, however have not their memories of Elves, for many lifetimes had passed for them. The magnificence of Greenwood was forgotten by them, and only Mirkwood was known to them. It had become a place to fear, something to be told at night with nothing but fright, and with it any who dwelled there including the elves. With Mirkwood becoming a dark place to mortals few hardly dared to enter it, and knowledge of the paths through it lost to them. Maps of the forest were few and the information outdated, nature having changed many things.

The Silvan and Sindar of Mirkwood were thus almost completely isolated. Their relations with other Elven realms were strained, their unique situation causing contact to be very difficult to maintain. Their closest ally was the Men of Laketown, they were friends with the Elves, having traded for generations, they too feared entering the woods.

But not all of the forest had been corrupted, for where the Elven-King's Halls lay the surrounding area was bright and free of the darkness tainting the rest of their beloved woods. To the Mirkwood Elves it was a constant reminder of how their home used to be, it gave them hope to one day see their forest as it had been.

It was not, however, their only reason. Even with their home darkened, they were a merry people finding joy in even the smallest of things. Their greatest source of happiness was their youngest Prince. He had been a great surprise to all, none more so than the royal family. After the initial shock had passed it gave away to wild happiness and concern. Their home, after all, was no longer the safe environment for an elfling to be raised in. Loath though they were to bring a child into the dark wood, the King and Queen were determined and swore to do everything to keep the babe safe.

And so it was a warm summer day that greeted Legolas Thranduilion as he entered the world. To his family, and the kingdom he was perfect. He had inherited his mother's beautiful green eyes, and his hair was golden, a mixture of his father's silver and his mother's warm brown. The elfling brought much love and happiness to the King's Halls, an air of bliss that had not been felt since the other royal children had been young.

Legolas was a bright and merry child flitting through corridors as his sweet laughter echoed around him, bringing smiles to even the most hardened warriors. He renewed their hope and allowed them to see the world with young eyes once again. It was easy to love Legolas, and for that love they were protective. For they were Elves and they cherished all children, and with their own they were ferocious in their protection of them. They would do anything to keep their youngest Prince safe for he was a welcome balm to their weary fëa.

None were more protective than his family, of which only remained three. His older brothers and Father, who may not always have time to spare for him but who loved him all the same. Just as he did them, and he treasured the moments he did have with them. His favorite moments were when they regaled him with tales of his mother and oldest brother.

His mother, the Elven-Queen Laivelithaniel – he was told – was a fierce warrior, skilled in the bow and hardly missed her target. But, his Ada would whisper into his ear, she was the kindest elleth I have ever known. She did not hesitate to point out my misjudgment as other would, she even argued with me the first day we met. I fell in love with her then and it took me years to win her love but it was worth it. Remember Legolas if you love someone you must fight for them.

Arbellason, his eldest brother, had been a skilled swordsman and a great tactician. Valiant and proud was he who though looked much like Laivelithaniel took more after Thranduil in personality. He had been lost in The Last Alliance of Elves and Men, along great with two-thirds of their troops including the first King of Greenwood, Oropher. Legolas however knew not that, instead he was told tales of the mischief he got into as an elfling dragging his younger brother along. He would have adored you, and I can only imagine the chaos the two of you would cause. When we one day leave for the Blessed Realm is the day that the two of you wreck havoc on us all, said the eldest of his brothers still in Arda.

He had seen portraits of both, the son being taller than the mother hair the same shade of brown. He looks just like her, Legolas would think, only he has Ada's eyes and she has mine. He knew that the woman was his Naneth but his memory of her was faint and he had none of Arbellason. He loved them all the same and sometimes he would imagine actually talking with them as opposed to looking at flat versions of them.

His second eldest brother, Taurvantian, was one of their best warriors and an elven captain. He had a mind for strategy and a will to protect those he loved, making for a rather formidable elf. Though he was a seasoned fighter he was also kindhearted and could be mischievous helping his youngest brother with a prank or two. Playful though he could be one should not question his intelligence, for while he may not prefer books as his two younger brothers did, he was still very quick in mind. Taurvantian did not take offense if others thought him dim-witted, rather he used it to his advantage. He had not Calameathor's penchant for politics, but he often managed to negotiate things in the Elves favor. He has Ada's eyes, Legolas would tell others, and his hair was coloured like the honey they often put on bread. Taurvantian was the one who helped Legolas improve his aim with the bow, and would sneak him a biscuit or two when he had bad days.

Calamaethor, the third eldest, was their best healer and an excellent diplomat, with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. Both of which aided him well in his pursuits, more of scholar than a warrior, dangerous of a different kind than Taurvantian. Though he was skilled with wielding daggers and knives, a skill he up took when he was attacked by a spider. He had been one of the firsts to encounter a large spider, he was one of the fortunate few of surviving in those early days. It had changed him, and though he continued on as a healer he had demanded to learn how to defend himself. He looks just like Ada, would say Legolas, but he has Nana's smile, he would observe from the portraits. Calamaethor always helped him in his studies if he asked for it, and he was patient and kind. They shared a love of climbing trees and of creating melodies with the birds.

Thranduil himself was a loving father, if one with too few time to always be there for his child. But that was okay, Legolas would tell him, you are always there when you need to be. And it was more than enough for Legolas for he understood that his Adar was the King, who had a kingdom to rule. Of which Thranduil was grateful for, he would hate having his son feeling unimportant or neglected when he cherished him and his brothers. He held his sons close, for they were the last living thing he had of his precious wife.

In the same way that Legolas loved them, they did him. His family was protective over their youngest, as all families did, for he helped bring light into their world. Even in the darkest of times Legolas refused to let it darken his spirit and he refused to let it dampen theirs. His laughter and joy gave them their own and his wonder at the world let them truly appreciate it once more. None were perfect, not even Elves, but Legolas made them want to try. He brought them together, whether in worry or happiness he was theirs.

Their Prince. Their son. Their brother. Their elfling. Their lone green leaf in the darkened wood.

~ o0o ~

Laivelithaniel (Lye-ray-lee-thonn-ee-ell) "Meadow of ash trees" - brown hair, green eyes

Arbellason (Are-behl-lah-son) "Noble Strength" - Brown hair, blue eyes

Taurvantian (Towr-vahn-tee-ahn) "Forest Walker" - honey blonde hair, blue eyes

Calamaethor (Kah-lah-my-thore) "Bright Warrior" - Silver hair, blue eyes

Not sure if I'll continue this, but any updating will be sporadic at best.