Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

Eryn Lasgalen

I can't remember who drew this. If it is yours, then let me credit you ! Wonderful picture.

King Thranduil stood in front of the magnificent gates of Eryn Lasgalen. Such was the new name of his Kingdom, and how very fitting! After their difficult victory in Dol-Guldur, the Lady of the light had destroyed the fortress of his childhood with the remnant of Nenya's power. Surprisingly, Lord Celeborn was not decided to sail with his wife yet. His aid had been appreciated, the long-time rift between the Noldor and Sindar slowly receding as they agreed on new borders for Lothlorien and Greenwood.

It was he, Lord Celeborn, who had suggested renaming the Great wood so that mortals would no longer call it Mirkwood. And Thrandhuil was glad for he felt, all around him, the trees chanting their joy as the soil regained its former glory, rid of the decay and sickness of the necromancer. How long he had waited for this, to see his beloved forest thrive under the light of the sun!

But for now, he did not allow their songs of glory distract him from his thoughts. Posture stiff, blue eyes as cold as ice, silver hair gently swaying in the breeze, he awaited the arrival – long overdue – of his only heir. Legolas would receive praise and heartfelt welcome in front of his people.

In private though, he was up for a phenomenal dressing down! His departure after Elrond's council, without even bothering to ask for his King's permission, on a path to certain death, had not helped Thranduil to trust his counterpart in Imladris. Why had the Lord not sent his sons instead? As his captain, Legolas should have been there when his kingdom was attacked, instead of gallivanting about with a dwarf, no less! He should have been there by his side when his courageous Sylvan and Sindar folk alike marched upon Dol Guldur!

Legolas' absence, the risks he had taken, the folly of this quest would have been enough to render him furious. Yet, there was more to add to his ire. After spending so much time besides the new King of Gondor, his son had eventually decided to visit his people ... his father, his King! And now that he had passed the borders of their realms, the scouts informed him that his son rode with a dwarf, a son of those he had imprisoned in his dungeons and made a fool of him no less! And what about those rumours? The rumours about the red witch? Had he been such a fool to be ensnared by a pretty human face?

Thranduil was boiling, his anger sizzling under his flawless skin. Yet, he smiled when, at last, his son appeared on the path. The cold, unnerving smile that promised a thousand deaths. And still, he refrained from frowning when Legolas helped the dwarf descend from his horse, a mount they apparently shared! How appalling! His people were frantic, shouting and congratulating his son after his role in the war of the ring.

News travelled fast, and by now, every minstrel sang Legolas' praises in the great hall. His soon greeted them as well, but his smile was forced, hollow. A shiver ran through Thrandhuil's spine. He had sworn, after losing his father in the battle of Dargorlad, that never again he would set foot past the Emyn Muil. The sight of Mordor, its barrenness, its destruction, the horrors of the battlefield, of his kin lying in crimson pools was a memory he had never been able to erase from his mind. Was it the reason why Legolas' light seemed so dim?

Very soon, his son bowed to him on the phenomenal staircase that led to their dwellings. Their people fell silent, and the dwarf fidgeted by his side. Thrandhuil could not care less about him, but he had to admit his courage. He spared him a glance before tracing Legolas' features. His son's eyes were guarded, an expression he had scarcely seen on his handsome face.

Colour drained from his face as worry replaced anger. His words of welcome were so rehearsed that he would have been able to bestow them while sleeping. Then he greeted the dwarf, searching his soul for an explanation. Albeit Gimli, son of Glóin, did not falter under his gaze, he addressed him an apologetic look. Thranduil's unnerving gaze came back to his son's face, and when the formalities were completed, all but dragged him to his private chambers.

Then the door was closed, and in a swish of his regal robes, Thrandhuil turned around and stared into his son's eyes.

"What happened, ion nín?"

The affectuous name was enough to shatter Legolas' resolve. His handsome face contorted in pure agony as he fell to his knees.

"... Ada!"

And Thranduil fell beside his son, gathering him son into a tight embrace his body shook with sobs. Dread seized the King's heart, panic his thoughts. It could not be! For it had taken less than a second for him to recognise that look, the same that had haunted his features for centuries. His son was fading from grief. He had left a bachelor, and returned broken-hearted. Thranduil held Legolas tightly, never letting go as the blood of his blood expressed the extend of his despair. And he, the ever-collected King, shed his own tears, tears he had contained ever since his Feä-mate passed, his heart torn to shreds. Not him! He prayed silently as Legolas' tears fell like a river. Oh Valar! Please not him!

But it was already too late. The Valar had not heard him.

Very short chapter due to the restructuration of my fiction. Sorry ! The rest will soon follow.