Through Wind and Fire (LOTR)

XXVI

Home, the spot of earth supremely blest,

A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.

- Robert Montgomery 

For he is our peace, who hath made both one, and hath broken down the middle wall of partition between us.

- Ephesians 2:14

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

- Philippians 4:7

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The King of Greenwood walked through the forest with his young son Legolas, who was bouncing around excitedly. The prince loved the outdoors, and he was finally able to skip his lessons to go explore the woods with his father. Thranduil laughed as his son pulled on his hand, in spite of the heaviness that filled his heart. Legolas reminded of his wife in so many ways, and he could see his wife's expression in the young ellon's delighted face. He missed his wife, and only ten years had gone by since she left him and Legolas. Her presence did he yet long for, wishing that they could be the united family they should have been. Bitterness had begun to take hold of his heart, its icy tendrils squeezing at his insides.

Legolas missed his naneth, just as his father missed her. He did not remember much of her, only that she was as beautiful as anything he had ever seen, and that she used to tap his nose often. It was a strange thing, but he never allowed anyone to touch his face after his mother left. As he yanked on his father's hand, urging him to hurry, he imagined that he could hold his mother's hand as well. The prince wanted to show her how he could now climb a tree, to tell her about how he hit the bullseye with his bow and arrow. Still scarred was his young heart, and he never had even began to forget the hurt that overwhelmed him when he discovered his mother had left him. How he had cried and sobbed, each cry leaving a gruesome mark on his father's heart.

For a while they walked on through the forest, when Thranduil caught eye of the place he and his wife had first met as little elflings. His long stride he stopped, frozen with grief and memory. He squeezed his eyes shut, not allowing himself to succumb to that pain. Legolas frowned as his father paused, tugging on his hand.

"Ada, let us go!"

The Elvenking answered not, letting all the memories wash over him like a wave.

"Nidh! Who hit me?!" came a little voice, undeniably an elleth.

"Thranduil, apologise to the Lady!" Oropher cried. "You must be more careful with your toys if you still wish to have that privilege!"

"Excuse me?" Thranduil politely said to the victim of his toy sword. She turned to him quickly, running straight into a tree, tumbling onto her bottom.

"I am sorry for hitting you with my toy sword," he meekly muttered, fumbling with his hands. Noticing she had fallen, he stuck out a small hand to help her up. She grasped it thankfully, only Thranduil was not yet strong enough to pull her up, and they both fell. She began to cry, and Thranduil frowned. 'Tis not right for a lady to cry so, he thought. He must do something. "Please do not cry. I fell too, you know."

Upon hearing that she was not the only one to have embarrassed herself, she stood up and smiled at him.

"I know!" she cried.

"You know what?" Thranduil asked, confused.

"We can play with your sword! You chase me with it, and I can be an orc. If you touch me, then you are the orc and I chase you!" The prince thought about it for a moment, looked around, then tapped her with the toy sword. He dropped it like it was burning, then sprinted off, screaming that she could not catch him.