TITLE: THE SIEGE

ONESHOT

SUMMARY: While facing yet another hopeless battle, help comes from a surprising ally. Reunions ahead! NO SLASH.

The battle had been raging for what seemed like hours.

It looked eerily reminiscent of the Battle of Helms Deep. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas were fighting against orcs, uruk-hai, goblins and oliphaunts, to protect the people.

The city where the battle was occurring, though it was once considered a part of Gondor, was in an interesting location. In the past, it had been a centre for one of the major trade routes between Greenwood, Gondor and Rohan. But as time passed, other routes were favoured more, and people migrated from that city to make their homes elsewhere.

Since before the days of Lord Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, the city had been slowly cut off from the kingdom, by no fault of anyone. But, fortunately, the city wasn't utterly dependent on Minas Tirith, and Gondor by extension, that their livelihood would be affected drastically. Against all odds, it had flourished as much as it could. It was a peaceful place. But that peace had been hard won. The leaders of the city had realised that in case of any attack or siege upon their home, if or when any help arrived, it would be too late. So, they had fortified their city as much as they could and it had helped them withstand any orc attacks.

Aragorn, after being crowned as the High King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor, had sought to bring that elusive city back into the folds of his kingdom, or at the very least establish trade arrangements between the two. So Aragorn, since he had been growing restless, had decided to conduct the negotiations in person. He took his guard (he tried to refuse of course, but he couldn't stand against the deadpan look of Faramir, his faithful Steward), and he was joined by his companions Legolas and Gimli.

The journey from Minas Tirith, on horseback, would have taken more or less a week. They had prepared accordingly and set off.

After 3 days, they were joined by Gandalf who brought with him grave tidings. He had news of the orcs, uruk-hai and other fell beasts that had survived the Fall of Sauron, when Frodo Baggins, with the help of his dear friend Sam Gamgee, had destroyed the One Ring. They had all gathered together and were marching upon the very city Aragorn and his companions were travelling to.

As soon as Gandalf had given them the news, Legolas and Gimli, as one, had turned to glare at Aragorn.

As if it was somehow Aragorn's fault!

"You have the worst luck known to Men, laddie," growled Gimli.

Aragorn stared in fascination as Legolas' eye twitched.

Gandalf had, as was expected of him, said something which sounded very wise but was in truth extremely confusing, and left immediately. They inferred that he would bring help. Aragorn sent a messenger back to Minas Tirith nevertheless.

Just like it was in Helms Deep, they arrived at their destination two days before the leftover army of Mordor did. The news of the impending siege was spread and the people prepared to defend their homes.

Though Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and the King's guards were trained for battle and had experienced it, the people of the city were no soldiers. They were lacking in numbers too. But what they lacked, they made up in grim determination to protect their families and children.

The day of the battle arrived.

The enemy army was smaller than the one at the Battle of Helms Deep, but they still outnumbered the defenders four to one.

The moment before it all started, the entire world seemed to freeze. Time was suspended. No one breathed. The silence, the anticipation, was overwhelming.

Before anyone could blink, the battle had commenced. Archers slew down lines of orcs. There were two oliphaunts at the back of the seemingly endless army of orcs and goblins. By mutual agreement, it was accepted that when the giant beasts were a threat, Legolas would be the one to handle them.

The people of the city fought like men possessed, their every action ringing with desperation and fury. The entire fight seemed hopeless. The odds were stacked against them. But still, they fought.

Legolas and Gimli were like twin hurricanes, each complimenting the other perfectly, protecting the other's back and covering the blind spots. Legolas was leading the number of orcs killed by four.

Blood singing in his veins, Gimli swung his axe at a goblin creeping up behind Aragorn. As the battle ebbed and flowed, the three friends were taken along with it. When they were brought near each other, they fought back to back, other times, they were like a whirlwind, cutting down their enemies. The bloodlust of the battle inflamed them.

Hours passed. They still fought.

Hours passed. The men tired. They still fought.

The battle carried on till dawn, the entirety of night passed in a cacophony of swords clashing, dying screams and battle cries.

The men were losing hope. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli exchanged grim looks. They were going to see it to the end, no matter what end it maybe.

The orcs had realised that the three of them together was bad for their continued survival. And so, they were lured away from each other and were surrounded. But if the orcs had thought they would be easily defeated, they were sorely mistaken.

The battle raged on. Dawn had broken over the city.

Legolas was suddenly filled with a wild, almost desperate hope. His laugh rang out like the pure chiming of bells, lifting many hearts from despair.

Aragorn and Gimli exchanged a worried look. Was it possible that the elf had received a blow to the head?

A loud, ringing horn sounded.

As one, both armies turned towards the sound.

There, just like in Helms Deep, Gandalf sat astride Shadowfax, with the sun blazing at his back. Right next to him, was the reason for Legolas' joy.

Face set in an ice cold mask, eyes blazing with the wrath of an enraged parent, was the Elven King Thranduil, the father of Legolas. He had the might of Mirkwood behind him.

The cheers of men filled the air as hope was restored.

The orcs fought with even more desperation. They knew that their end was near.

The elven archers picked out the deserters who were running away, in a desperate bid to save themselves.

The Elven King himself waded into the fray. His hair whipped around him like molten silver, accentuated by the glittering sun, as he twisted and turned on nimble feet, his sword flashing as he cut down, mercilessly, any orc, uruk-hai or goblin dumb enough to stand in his way to his son's side. His eyes were like twin stones of blue diamonds, freezing his enemies in fear, giving him the single second required to behead them with ease.

The elven warriors fought their way to the men of the city, helping them and protecting them. The healers worked diligently, trying to save everyone who was hurt or, at the very least, ease their pain.

Later, songs would be sung and tales would be told of two elves, their hair like spun moon light, looking so similar, their beauty captivating everyone who laid their eyes on them, who brought down the two oliphaunts. The motion of the elves would be described akin to a dance of grace as they moved liked a silvery river, flowing swiftly yet serenely onwards.

After the battle ended, the last orc caught and killed, most everyone had retreated to the city to rest and to heal. Hence, there weren't much people around to witness the reunion between father and son.

If Aragorn or Gimli noticed the wet sheen in Thranduil's eyes, the elf rumoured to have ice for a heart, they didn't mention it. If the other elves noticed how hard Legolas and his father clutched at each other, how Thranduil looked ready to bundle up his son in his own, long robes and take him right back to Mirkwood and never let him out of his sight again, they made sure their soft smiles weren't visible.

All the two royal elves cared about, at that moment, was that they were together, whole and healthy, after what felt like an eternity apart.

Since Legolas had left his father in Mirkwood, to go to Rivendell as the representative for the wood elves, before the Fellowship was formed, he had yearned to see his father again. During times of despair, on the path to Mordor, only the thoughts of his father and his hope to see him again had helped him fight off the darkness, to find light again.

Waiting for a loved one to return home isn't something to laugh about either. For an elf, for whom an eternity could be considered a mere blink of an eye, every day waiting for Legolas to come home felt like an eternity to Thranduil. He kept waiting for some news, any news, hoping that the news wouldn't be of his only son's demise. Some days, the only thing that helped him to even get up from his bed was Thranduil's memories of a young Legolas, always running around the palace and charming the guards or trailing after his father, tugging on his father's sleeves, all the while chattering in his sweet voice, "Ada, why does it rain?" or "Ada, can I have some more blueberry pie?" or just say "Ada..." in a small voice while looking up at the King with his wide, soft blue eyes, and lifting his hands up, wanting to be carried by his father.

Thranduil took a deep breath and pulled back, placing his hands on either of Legolas' shoulders. His face was composed again, but his eyes gave away the utter elation that he felt on being reunited with his son again as they memorized his son's features all over again. Legolas bore his father's scrutiny with his usual patience, a pleased smile tugging at his mouth.

Thranduil placed a palm on Legolas' cheek. Legolas leaned into it and said softly, reassuringly, " Ada, I'm well."

"My little green leaf," Thranduil whispered, resting his forehead on Legolas'.

It was like a weight had lifted off of them. A weight that they hadn't realised was present, oppressing them in every way, until it was gone.

"Let's go home," Thranduil said, simply.

Legolas nodded.

"Ada, I hope you don't mind my friends coming along with us."

"Of course, ionneg. Who are they?"

"This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, High King Elessar of Gondor and Arnor," introduced Legolas. Aragorn gave a short bow which Thranduil returned.

Legolas then turned to Gimli, blithely ignoring the way Thranduil's eyes widened.

"And this, ada, is Gimli, son of Gloín, from Erebor."

It was clear that Gimli was smirking at the Elven King from under his beard. Thranduil looked to his son, whose eyes were impossibly wide, the blue almost hypnotic. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"Well met, Master Dwarf," said Thranduil, giving a regal nod grudgingly.

"Aye," replied Gimli, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Well met, indeed, O Elven King."

Thranduil grimaced. The things he puts up with for the sake of his son.

But looking at Legolas and seeing how happy he appears, Thranduil knew he'd do anything to keep his son smiling always.

Even if it means inviting a dwarf into his kingdom.

The messenger that Aragorn sent, reached the helpful and gorgeous Faramir who immediately dispatched the best warriors to go to their King. They reached the city after all the fighting was over but stayed behind to help the people with their rebuilding. Aragorn sent back a message to Faramir and Arwen that he, along with Gimli and Legolas, would be visiting Mirkwood and that the negotiations with the city could be carried out after the people had healed and the city rebuilt. The message would have caused much consternation to Faramir while Arwen laughed at him.

Ada - Daddy.

Ionneg - My son.

A/N: I am sorry for not updating my other stories but this just HAD to be written. The mental image of Thranduil coming to his son's aid while cutting down everyone in his path, in his glorious rage, while saying in a calm and frigid manner, "How. Dare. You. Try. To Hurt. MY. SON!" just wouldn't go away. I know of no other fics in which Thranduil and Legolas fight together or one comes to the aid of other. Also, there seems to be an insulting shortage of family fics between these two.

So, this is my contribution.

And, I did almost ZERO RESEARCH for this fic, other than looking at the map of Middle Earth.I tried to keep it as general as possible. But, if you find any horrifying mistakes, please forgive me and remind yourself that it is just fiction. XD

And since I suck at naming, I decided to just keep it as 'the city'. If anyone comes up with a good enough name, I'll consider naming it with that.

Hope you enjoyed it. I appreciate your comments.

EDIT: I'll be updating more oneshots about Thranduil and Legolas on this story. But I am marking the story as Completed. So, put the fic on your Follows list to be alerted whenever a new chapter is posted.

Thank you for reading, the favorites, the follows and the reviews.