The Hobbit & Lord of the Rings -oneshots II

Reunions - Thranduil&Legolas

Warnings: none, I think?
Word count: 2257
Other: Cursive is elvish
Requested: no

Your return to Mirkwood rattles the entire kingdom, as everyone thought you were dead.

You had been traveling with the dwarves for months now, and they had slowly started to trust you. But clearly, it didn't extend to leading them in a forest that was under the command of elves, so you followed them, a deep dread rising in your chest as the forest seemed to get darker and darker around you. Before you even realized it, you were under attack, and you couldn't do anything to defend yourself, as the dwarves had deemed that they would not allow you to travel with them if you were armed. But once you saw the people surrounding you, you felt a wave of relief rush through you. They were your people.

When your eyes landed on the elf that was stripping your companions of their weapons, you felt like your heart stopped beating.
"Legolas?" You breathed out, and he yanked himself around, a guarded look in his blue eyes. He looked so much like his father that it hurt. You raised your arm to drop your hood, ignoring the dwarves when they subtly tried to hint you not to. As the fabric fell from your head, Legolas dropped the sword he was holding. It landed with a metallic sound, echoing in the now silent
"Naneth?" His words were a quiet exhale, and you gave him a small smile.
"Hello, little one." You greeted him, not sure how he would react. Would he be angry at you?

He stormed forward, and the dwarves suffered a flash of panic before the elf wrapped his arms around you in a tight, desperate hug. He squeezed you tightly, burying his head in your chest, a few stray tears falling from his eyes.
"Why did you go?" At that moment, Legolas felt like a child again. He was back in his room, back in the moment his father had told him that you would never return again, that you were gone. His emotions were in complete turmoil, happiness, confusion, and quilt fighting inside of him.
"I'm so sorry, sweetling, I didn't mean to be gone this long. My wounds took longer to heal than I thought, and it wasn't safe for me to travel alone." Your hand was in his hair, brushing it as he squeezed you with all his might, afraid that if he let go, you would disappear again.

Your arms never left Legolas' when you were escorted into the kingdom. You had dearly missed it during the years you had been gone. As the gates opened, a familiar warm light filled the yard, the torches shining the same warm light as they had before. Legolas was still glued to your side, refusing to take a step away from you. He worried that this was all a dream and if he let go, your warmth would be gone again and he wouldn't get it back.
"My lord, -and my lady," the guard hurried to add, "What do you want me to do with the dwarves?"
"To the dungeons. We'll deal with them later." To Legolas' and the guard's surprise, the orders came from you. When their eyes turned to you, you just raised a brow. You hadn't forgotten how to be queen and give orders, and once the guard recovered, he jumped to put them in order.
"Of course, my lady. At once!" He rushed to work, and as he disappeared, you turned to face your son.
"W-Where is he?" Legolas said nothing, just pulled you in the direction of the throne hall, and you followed, silent. You were numb inside, not sure how to feel. You were happy that you would finally see him again after all of these years of being apart. But the worry that he would hate you was paralyzing, and the fear of him not loving you anymore was eating you alive from the inside.

Legolas pushed the large oaken door open, and our breath hitched and you didn't even realize it, but you stopped walking. Thranduil looked exactly the same as the last time you had seen him, his long blonde hair resting on his back, the crown on his head, the fresh berries entwined between the intricate branches. His throne was still as tall and stunning as before, and tears brimmed in your eyes when you saw your throne still sitting next to his, your crown resting on a pillow on the seat.
"Ada," Legolas called him by his name, and you could see Thranduil's shoulders stiffening, as he wasn't used to being called by that name in the court.
"Legolas." He greeted, still not turning his back, and you gripped tighter onto your son as you realized what he was looking at. A painting, nearly as large as one of the stone walls, hung on the wall, your form immortalized onto the canvas. You were smiling gently, eyes gentle as you looked down from your spot on the wall like you were protecting the people under your case. gaze.
"Thranduil." The word escaped your mouth before you could stop them. The sound of your voice pulled him out of the haze he had been in, and he yanked himself around.