A tear rolled down his pale white face, dripping slowly onto the marble floor. A hand stretched forward and wiped it away. Leaving a soggy stain on his face. Beautiful blonde hair hanging limply by his shoulders, slumped shoulders, sheaf and bow hold limply in his grasp.
"Don't cry, my son" Thranduil soothed, stroking Legolas kindly.
Another tear rolled, another life of sorrow felt. His heart pumping slowly up and down, shattered by the pain of a lifetime, the mother he shall never have.
"You tell me I shall not cry, but do not tell me how. I loved my mother very much. Tell me how, father, how?" Legolas looked up, surveying his father with eyes so wise, for such a young, dear, boy. His head raised a little, as if attempting a brave posture.
"Legolas, my dear, dear boy. Keep thy chin up. You are a kind, loving, intelligent elf, you will grow to be a good bowman, a Nobel gentleman. Put the past behind you and proceed to the future, filled with the unknown pleasures and joys it holds."
Thranduil sighed, long, hard, deep.
"Son, run along now my dear child, go with your playfellows and while away the time, go be a young boy. Enjoy the sunsets, the deep forest, have it all. I'm sure it's what your mother would have wanted."
Legolas sniffed, looked left and right around the room, then slowly up at his father. He walked towards his father and wrapped his arms around Thranduil's waist, he took a deep breath in and took in that deep, grassy smell that was trust and hope.
***
He took a step back and looked up once again into his father's eyes.
"It's the day, it's been a whole year." Legolas stared into his father eyes, as if trying to find some hidden meaning in there, "Since she, died."
YOU ARE READING
Before the Ring
FanfictionDid you ever wander what happened to Legolas before the Lord of the Rings? Ever wandered what happened to his mother and why she was never in the story, how did he grow up, what was his childhood like. Well you'll have to read to find out what I th...
