Roswehn of Mirkwood

Families

As Roswehn ran away from Babiyar's house, another confrontation was about to take place away from Dale, in a realm built in the middle of the woods.

"I need to talk to you."
Legolas approached his father, who was silently watching his forest from the terrace.

Thranduil turned to look at him as he leaned on his scepter. "Do you know how the mortals call Eryn Galen? They call it Mirkwood. Fools. There is nothing dark or gloomy here, their ignorance is limitless. " the King murmured. Roswehn had told him all the legends and rumors about the Elves, fanciful stories that had caused that distrust so hard to eradicate from humans towards the people of Manwë. "I do not understand their obtuse superstitions." the King continued.

"It's because they do not know us," the prince answered. "It's not surprising that they are afraid of us: you do not let anyone approach these borders." It sounded like a kind of reproach.

Thranduil looked at him severely. "And I will continue to do so: no one can enter and leave this realm freely, we have no other defense than incessant surveillance, you know." He answered.

"Roswehn did it, and that did not irritate you, quite the opposite." Legolas objected, smiling.

"We have not talked about this yet, you have to forgive me, I should have explained the situation better when you came back." Thranduil said. "It's not easy for you, I understand that."

Legolas was amazed: his father was begging to forgive him? Roswehn must have done a miracle to soften the king's personality that way. "You do not owe me any explanation, father, it's your choice, and it's your life."

"There's a lot we should talk about, Legolas, not just regarding Roswehn: centuries have passed since Calenduin's death and through all this time I was only a King to you, never a father. Your mother would have detested my behavior. " Thranduil admitted. "So many years...all wasted." He seemed to be fallen back into that sadness that the young Elf knew well. At that moment the Prince understood how important the mortal of Dale had become for his father. She had left the realm, and the consequences of her absence were already visible on Thranduil's face.

"I always knew that your role as sovereign was more important than that of father. You do not have to feel guilty." The young Elf tried to say. It was strange for him to talk to the King about his feelings: that was the very first time they were discussing their relationship. "But there is a doubt that doesn't leave my mind, and not just mine."

Thranduil frowned. "What? Tell me."

"Do you really love her?" the Prince asked. "Roswehn believes you don't. She believes that yours is nothing but a superficial affection for her. She thinks she is not important to you. "

"Did she tell you this?" Thranduil asked, as his son saw a shadow of pain in his blue eyes.

"Yes. And if you do not love her, you should not keep her here." Legolas said. "She believes you do not love her as you loved my mother."

Thranduil turned his face back to the panorama in front of them. The wind softly caressed the tops of the trees, splendid in their summer green. "When your mother is named, the wind always rises, it's something I've noticed many times, and it can not be a coincidence. Do you know what I think? I think it's her." the sovereign said, as if talking to himself. "Calenduin wants to tell us that she is near us, that her spirit is here, she protects this place."

The King looked at his son again. "Oh, how much I loved her, Legolas! Our love was deeper than the sea, and yet ..." he could not continue.

"With Roswehn it's different?" the prince asked.