Beta: Rhonda (leggylover03)

Summary: Thranduil muses about his son and Legolas seeks his blessings before leaving for the Council of Elrond. One-shot.

Warnings: Light showers of angst.

Author's Notes: I've pushed through a smallwriter's block with this one-shot. It starts a little slow, with thoughts only, but the second half is all dialogue.

Foresight

by Lily Frost

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Night caressed Thranduil's face, his chamber windows open to the early autumn breezes that still carried summer's warmth, a soothing thing this very slight but tangible warmth; yet he could not fall asleep. He gave up and flung over his covers to stand by his window and gaze out of it, regal as ever even in his white nightshirt and over-robe of the deepest green. Fine fingers rested lightly on the window's ledge as he pondered, mused and missed his only son.

It was not unusual for Legolas to be abroad, indeed waking up in the night like this was all too regular of an occurrence. Thranduil did not let it distract from sleep overmuch, it was relaxing in it's own right to get lost in the memories of old. Perhaps it was frivolous activity, a waste of his time and an unnecessary strain on his mental health, but he felt in the end, that it was better than forgetting his son.

His wife slept soundly tonight, but she fretted outwardly. She asked Thranduil five times a day where Legolas was or wondered aloud when he would come home. He would reassure her, and usually Legolas would not disappoint them by coming home on someone else's horse, too beaten up to ride his own. At those times Thranduil reassured himself that at least Legolas was coming home at all.

Most elves did not have death, a loved ones or their own, on their minds much, but for Thranduil, ruling the perilous realm of Mirkwood and having a son who constantly sought out trouble, it often came to pass.

Well, perhaps it was wrong to say that Legolas actively sought out trouble, but it certainly found him. He had a sense of chivalry that would not allow him to let well enough alone and he constantly intervened when he thought things were not right. Not only that, but his competitive and playful nature often had him stirring up trouble where a less outspoken elf would not.

Legolas was a masterful shot with a bow and a very good rider, he could run swiftly and he expertly handled his knives, and all blades... oh, Thranduil could hardly deny that he was a perfect warrior, and very handsome, with his mother's delicateness making gentle otherwise strong features, but another thing that weighed heavily on his mind, besides the danger of it all, was that someday Legolas would have to start acting like who he was; a Prince of Elves. He would have to give up the adventure and folly of youth, apply himself more to learning their justice system, and concern himself with the defense of Mirkwood from the top, as well as the petty things; the small crimes, food and water, training soliders, diplomacy with other nations, and continuing his line. Yes, he would have to take a wife. Though maidens swooned over him, Legolas showed as much interest for them as he did for diplomacy, which was very little, though perhaps that was just as well. Thranduil would not see his son grow up quickly, as he had to.

Times were as dark as they had been then, but things were starting to move; change was on the air. Perhaps it was the darkness growing and rising up, Thranduil thought, as his wife so often dreamed of, waking up in the night with her eyes wide and blank, screaming and crying. Her foresight was not as strong as Galadriel's or Elrond's, but she was one of the few in Mirkwood who had it. Mirkwood elves were not as prone to superstition as others; they found foresight cryptic and preferred more real means of detecting threats. Legolas had not inherited it, but that was for the best too. As it was, there was little that could bring him down.

There was an end in sight now at least, war was approaching, but it was an end to the darkness that had been creeping upon them for centuries. And, in Thranduil's head, above it all, the sea roared and called for him. A little bit of peace was all he wanted!

"Adar?" Legolas burst into the room, making Thranduil start a little, and then smile and embrace him.

Legolas embraced back. Thranduil could smell the road smell in his hair and all over him. "You are home, my son."

"But not for long." Legolas sat on the bed, next to his mother, and gently shook her awake. "Naneth."

"Legolas." She gasped, and embraced him quickly. "Where have you been?"

"I have ventured far, and Radagast the Brown Wizard has told me that there is a gathering of all the peoples of Middle Earth in Rivendell."

"And you would go and represent Mirkwood?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes."

"What is this about?"

"There is to be a council."

"Pertaining what matters?"

"A great thing has been found."

His mother's eyes widened, knowing well what it was, having seen flashes in her visions. "Oh!" She stuttered.

"Yes, it is what you think."

"What is?" Thranduil said, his voice stern and a little too loud. He did not like it when things were kept from him.

"Isildur's bane has been found." Legolas confided.

"The One Ring..." Thranduil said, mouth agape.

"Shh! Do not speak of it too loudly." She turned to Legolas. "You must go then, to Rivendell."

"I do not know what this is for," Thranduil said, "But I fear that this is not our war to get involved in."

"But adar--"

"We have our own battles to fight here. The spiders are coming in tides now, and darker things."

"You are wrong! This is our war as much as it is anyone else's."

"Wizards and men! We guarded the creature Gollum for Mithrandir as he asked."

"And we failed at it." Despair came into his son's voice, and he pleaded with his eyes, "Adar, please, let me go to Rivendell."

Thranduil glanced to his wife and she nodded very slightly, almost inperceptively. 'Yes,' it said, 'let him go.'

"Go as my messenger then." Thranduil relented, hoping that this was a council and nothing more. If there was any task to be done, he knew Legolas would do it, out of guilt perhaps, for it was he who first let Gollum go and climb the trees, rejoicing in the creature's seeming reform.

"I must leave immediately. Do I have your blessing?"

"Aye, you have my blessing." Thranduil squeezed his son's arm.

"Be careful."

"I will Naneth." Legolas hugged his mother tightly, and she held him very close, for she knew that she would not see him for some long time.

As quickly as he had come, Legolas left, leaving Thranduil and his queen awake and a little bewildered. It had happened often before, Legolas bursting in and then leaving again, and it was disconcerting how tightly she had held him.

"I fear that our son is getting involved in troubles bigger than himself." She confided.

"Oh, but it will not be the first time."

And perhaps Thranduil's peace was in not knowing what was too come to pass.

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fin