Legolas walked into the moonlit forest. The air was humid and steamy from a soft rain. It smelled of rotting wood touched with a hint of wild honeysuckle. He walked stealthily pressing on the damp floor of the forest through the slanted beams of moonlight that were cast amid the grey trunks of the ancient trees. The air grew heavier as he neared the sacred place beneath the great oaks where he knew he would find his father. A place where Thranduil always seemed to drift away to find solitude. Legolas smiled down at his father's forgotten lantern—it sat alone casting a silver glow on the tall, wispy grass. It was not a beacon of welcome but a sign that none were allowed beyond this point. In this place, the only thing allowed was Thranduil's thoughts-but Legolas stepped forward knowing that this night he was needed.

Legolas walked up behind him, unseen and unheard, but he knew Thranduil would sense he was already there. The air was full of lightening bugs that danced around merrily with each other in patterns of light. As Legolas stood beside his father, he thought he saw a smile.

Thranduil turned and acknowledged his presence but then stood there with his thoughts, unspeaking. An endless amount of time passed in silence until Legolas thought his words were allowed.

"So what about these dwarves?" he whispered into the night.

Thranduil sighed reluctantly before he finally spoke. "You wish me to let them go?"

"I see no need for us to hold them prisoner. I do not think they are a threat!"

"Threat!" he scoffed. "No, a thorn Legolas; a thorn that has grown in my heart for years. The dwarves of Erebor lived under the ground. They mined endlessly for treasure and hardly ever saw the light of day. Hermits, and yet they think of themselves as kings and more noble than all, richer than all!" He turned to Legolas searching his eyes. "I pitied them Legolas and yet here we are with a palace under the ground and living in a forest that barely gives breath to light. " Thranduil looked up, a magnificent king with forlorn eyes. "I did not help them that day from the dragon, not because I knew we couldn't win, but because I saw a race that got what they deserved."

Legolas' breath caught knowing his father couldn't really mean what his words had implied. He cleared his throat searching for words. "Father, I know you would have helped them that day, if you could have. Smaug would have destroyed us all. You knew that."

"Did I?" Thranduil's gaze was piecing.

"You're a great king Father, but you wouldn't jeopardize our people."

The silence was deafening until Thranduil finally spoke again. "The look on Thorin's face has haunted me since that day. He has haunted me in my dreams and thoughts. I saw that look again when they captured him and brought him into my chambers. Hate, rage, betrayal, I saw myself in his eyes as being lowlier than they were to me so long ago. Now I pity us both."

"We can make this right Father. Let them go. We can help them reclaim what is theirs and become an alliance. Our army is strong and fierce. We can do this! The signs are already coming true. Birds have been seen flying back to The Lonely Mountain. The dragon may already be dead. Make this right with Thorin. Give your soul rest."

"He will not forgive me Legolas. I would not forgive me."

"We stand by you, Father. We always will. I always will."

Thranduil searched Legolas' face with saddened eyes. "You will leave me one day and my soul will wander alone. I will finally get what I deserve."

"Father?"

Thranduil put a hand up to stop him. "You are the only thing in my life that I will never regret."

Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat as his father walked away. He turned to watch as Thranduil walked passed his lantern, and into the darkness of the night, leaving him behind.