Kingsfoil [Thranduil] LOTR

Abandoned

Three Hundred Years ago...

She had left before dawn with Legolas, for he had promised to teach her how to track in the forest. Now it was well past midday, and the pair of them perched high in a beech tree, their lithe legs dangling from the branches as they shared a snack of apples and cheese that Narylfiel had thought to sneak away from the kitchens.

"Tell me, Legolas," she said after a bite. "Tell me what your mother was like." She was not afraid to ask Legolas about Thranduil's long missing wife. It was a sensitive topic, to be sure, but Legolas had become a friend, an ally, a mentor even. They had bonded over archery practice and knife work. He teased her good-naturedly like she thought an older brother might.

Legolas' bright blue eyes widened, and he almost dropped the apple that he was trying to peel in one long twisting peel. She had caught him off-guard with the question, not that he minded. He had spoken of his mother to Thaliniel and was honestly surprised the topic had not come up before with Narylfiel until now.

"What do you want to know?" he asked her, trying to read her a little from the corner of his eye.

"What was she like? What did she do?" was Narylfiel's automatic response, although the much desired 'Why did she leave?' stuck in her throat, unsaid.

Legolas sliced off a bit of apple and popped it into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully. "She was very beautiful. She had silvery fair hair and grey eyes; her father had been an advisor to my grandfather. Both their fathers had encouraged the match in the years before the Battle of Dagorlad. Oropher wanted to see his son settled down. Thranduil, of course, complied with his father's wishes."

Narylfiel snorted. "I have a hard time believing that," she said. The Elvenking struck her as anything but compliant.

Legolas grinned. "So do I, but that's how he tells it."

She shook her head disbelievingly and took the slice of apple he offered her.

"My mother loved music; she loved to sing. She played the harp," Legolas told her, looking at the peeled apple in his hand, taking another careful slice. "She liked to sew and embroider." He lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"Those...those are nice hobbies," Narylfiel suggested pleasantly. "Very courtly," she added for good measure.

The prince crooked an eyebrow at her. "Elarien," he said of the queen, not bothering to call her 'mother,' "she and my father had very little in common."

"I didn't know," Narylfiel admitted quietly.

"Even so," Legolas continued, taking the last piece of apple and splitting it with his companion, "her leaving the Greenwood devastated my father. I think he took it as a personal failure. You know how he is."

She did know. She nodded sadly and reached for his hand. "I am sorry, Legolas." And she was equally sorry for Thranduil, whom she knew had a sensitive heart hidden beneath his kingly glamour.

He patted her hand and then smiled wryly. "He is happier now than I have seen him in many years, Narylfiel, since you and your sister have joined our family. Just don't try and leave," he joked. "You know how upset he gets when I even mention the idea of trying to go somewhere!"

"I won't, Legolas," she told him seriously, gazing with rapt eyes at the forest canopy before her. "Why would anybody ever want to leave all this?"
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
November, 3018:

The cheerful tinkle of china and soft murmuring voices abruptly halted when a stormy-eyed King Thranduil thundered into the dining room for breakfast. He offered no greetings and reservedly took his seat at the head table, declining Galion's offer to make him a plate. He bypassed his usual favorite confections in favor of some bland herbal tea.