Thranduil sat on his throne and watched the patrol approach, trying not to focus on the two biers that stayed at the entrance to the hall. He would not look at anyone in the party but his son, lest he search for a missing face; however he had already sensed one who was missing which told him all he didn't want to know. The familiar pain came to him again and he prepared himself for his son's report.

As they walked into the Great Hall, Legolas had two distinct lines of thought: one being his report to his father about the spider nest they had discovered and the demise of Fion and Miraear; the other was of couples he knew who might enjoy caring for a little one. And secretly, he hoped he would be able to teach Laurelin archery as he had taught Miraear.

The patrol came to a halt at the base of the steps while Legolas continued up to his father's throne. It was then that the king noticed the small bundle in his arms.

"Man sa?" Thranduil asked sharply, pointing at the bundle and completely forgoing protocol.

"Mae govannen Ada," Legolas replied, an amused smile on his lips. "It's a baby. She is adan."

"Adan? O van odul?"

"I found her by a laurel tree a quarter mile north of the Valar stone, so I have named her Laurelin in honor of Yavanna."

Legolas lifted the edge of his cloak to reveal the sleeping baby's face. "And since she is human I wish for us to speak Westron in her presence."

"You speak as if you wish to keep her as a pet," his father retorted. "I will not have one of the adan living in my halls." He turned his back to his son to take the throne again.

"But Lord Elrond-" 

The king spun to face the prince, robe swirling about them. "Lord Elrond the half-elven has been fostering the line of Isildur for generations of men, hoping to find the king," Thranduil spat. "I will do no such thing. Have a scout take her to Esgorath and be done with her."

"If that is your will, Sire, I will take her myself. With or without your leave."

No other elf would have the temerity to speak that way to the king, and the flash of anger in Thranduil's eyes was only matched by the protective defiance in the eyes of his son. And whether it was the will of the Valar or simply a rest completed, Laurelin chose this moment to awake from her nap.

Neither elf had noticed the child had opened her eyes, so when she reached for the prince's hair and cooed, both elves were startled; however her babbling was even more of a surprise.

"Ahhh da! Ah-da-da-da!"

"So, you have found yourself an elf-father in Legolas, have you?" Thranduil's eyes softened almost imperceptibly; foresight had told him there would be no child borne of his son.

The baby gave a high-pitched squeal in reply and the threat of a smile played at the corners of Thranduil's lips. "Your bright spirit matches your name, little one. Come," he said to Legolas in his most royal tone, "let me see this little adan."

Legolas held the child out to his father. The King took Laurelin and held her out at arm's length. His restrained smile was brighter than anyone had seen on the King's face in a long while. He scrutinized her as she shrieked happily, waving her arms like a fledgling.

"Who would leave you in the woods to die," Thranduil pondered.

"I believe orcs had taken her from her family," Legolas said as the king sat on his throne with the baby on his knee. "But why or how she ended up so deep in Mirkwood remains a mystery."

"Yes, a mystery indeed. And, where are Fion and my niece, Legolas?"

Legolas' jaw tightened and his eyes widened. He quickly recovered, but not before he glanced at the two biers just outside the hall doors.

Thranduil's face was an emotionless mask as he tilted his head slightly to the right.

"How?"

"Ungol Útheniniel," the prince said quietly, eyes burning with anger. "She stayed hidden in the canopy above us, waiting for the right moment. Fion had just slain the largest spider when Útheniniel attacked him from above. By the time he saw her," the prince paused to block out the memory. "Authiel and Miraear were beside him in an instant, but even their combined healing strength was not enough."

The king's face darkened, eyes burning like his son's. "I could have healed him."

Authiel spoke from the base of the steps, "No sire, there was no saving him."

"Miraear held him as his fëa departed, even as she begged him to stay," Legolas continued. "Such was my cousin's grief that when the monster returned, she didn't defend herself. She refused to be protected, and…" Legolas took a steadying breath. "Her fëa departed quickly; I do not remember much after seeing Miraear fall, but when the world came into focus again, my knives were buried deep in Útheniniel's vile black heart."

"Ai Fion, Ai Miraear! Nínion an gurth dhîn," Thranduil said as he placed his right hand over his heart. (I weep for your death.)

Laurelin watched the elf, eyes round with wonder. As he bowed his head in grief, his spring crown was within her reach and she grabbed hold of it with both hands. Quite proud of her new acquisition, she vocalized her pleasure as she parted the king from his crown.

It was a surreal sight to see a human baby holding the elven king's crown, and the elves just stared, wondering what their lord would do as the child put one rounded twig in her mouth.

"Ai Laurelin," Legolas exclaimed and stepped forward to take her prize away, but was stopped by the raised hand of the king, head still bowed. "Ada?"

In spite of his grief, Thranduil began to chuckle, stood up and twirled with Laurelin at arm's length.

"Do you know who did the same thing to me more than a thousand years ago," he asked the giggling child. "A little orc named Miraear. Do you remember, Legolas?"

The elf prince smiled. "Yes Ada, I do remember."

"Yavanna has brought light into our dark hour and given this little one a piece of Miraear's fëa to ease our grief." He brought the child to his chest and took the crown from her, placing it on his head again. "It has been so long since we have had a young one," he said as he kept Laurelin from pulling his hair, "I had forgotten the joy they can bring, even amidst grief. We are going to keep her while we search for her family. In the meantime, have Thalion prepare the garden while you choose the saplings to plant in the memorial garden for your two warriors."

Legolas bowed to his father and turned to go down the steps, pausing for just a moment as the king began to sing a song to Laurelin. He smiled as he recognized the tune from his own childhood. Just as she eased his own grief, this human child would help ease his father's grief as well.

Thranduil sent scouts to Esgaroth the morning after Legolas had returned with the child, but no one knew anything about a missing infant. Two months passed and the elves had found much joy in having a baby among them. Laurelin learned to crawl, much to the delight of her foster parents Ralnor and Meleth, and of course Legolas.

Whenever the prince would walk into the room, she would squeal and demand to be picked up. The prince would gladly oblige her, and Meleth would smile at him. He, in turn, would shake his head.

"I am not looking to raise a family, Meleth. I have a kingdom to protect."

"But you are so good with her, no matter what Tinnuroch says," she would reply with a wry smile.

One morning the steward of the king came to Meleth's chamber looking for the prince. "He has taken Laurelin to the memorial garden, Arphen" she replied to his inquiry.

The steward found the two of them sitting on the grass in the memorial garden between Fion's elm sapling and Miraear's rowan sapling, the baby alternately playing with the prince's hair and a rag doll as he told her the story of how his cousin and Fion met and fell in love. Arphen cleared his throat to announce his presence.

"Mae govannen, Arphen," the prince said as the steward stepped forward.

"Mae govannen, my lord, hello little orc. I know you are just recently returned from patrol, but Nithron has been sent by Ralnor who is in urgent need of assistance."

The prince laughed as he stood up and brushed off his clothes, "What trouble has he gotten into this time?"

"I know not, I am simply the messenger. However, if the blood stains on Nithron's boots are to be believed, I daresay they are beset by orcs and are in need of you and your best warriors. The patrol was sent to the mountains of Mirkwood, near the Celduin."

"I shall gather The Elite at once. Thank you for your keen observance, my friend."

Arphen smiled. "It is good to know you finally trust my counsel, my lord."

"I have ever since I came of age," the prince replied as he rubbed his left shoulder at the phantom pain. "I learned that lesson all too well; father saw to that."

The steward smiled, "And well you should have."

"Inform the king to increase the watch until my return."

"Yes, my lord."

Legolas scooped up Laurelin and handed her to the steward, and she promptly grabbed at his braids.

"Ai, pinig orch il i' findl," Arphen cried as the baby grabbed a large handful of hair and pulled it.

"She will have your hair," the prince chuckled as he picked up the doll Laurelin had been playing with and handed it to her. "This is but a momentary distraction, but it does help."

The elder elf gave a dismissive sniff and sat in the spot vacated by the prince. "We shall see."

Shortly after the prince left, Thranduil came into the garden to find Arphen prying his brown hair from a chubby little fist.

"I'm really starting to wonder if all orcs start life like this and just don't have any guidance," the king said, sympathizing with his steward.

Laurelin turned at the sound of his voice and grinned broadly, releasing Arphen's hair as she reached for the king. He gave a low bow placing his summer crown just beyond her reach, forcing the steward to put her on all fours so she could chase her favorite toy. She tried to grab the elusive crown that was so-close-yet-so-far-away, and the king smiled.

"Look how well she is crawling now Arphen! I think little Laurelin is going to catch a crown today."

"Ralnor called for aid, sire. My lord Legolas has taken The Elite and answered the call. He requests you increase the watch until his return."

Thranduil straightened up, crownless, and frowned. "Rarely do I see a moment's peace, steward. Could you not wait until we leave this sacred place to drag me back to kingly duties?"

"My apologies, sire."

The baby gurgled and cooed at the crown in her hands and began to chew on one rounded twig. The king sat down beside her and began to sing, causing the tips of his crown to quiver making her laugh. Thranduil stretched out on the grass between the two saplings, continuing his song and Arphen bowed to the pair.

"I shall await your return to your chambers, sire. Find peace where you may."

-oOo-

Two days later Legolas returned in the afternoon alone and went straight to the king's chambers without waiting to be announced. When he emerged a few hours later, the prince went to clean up and from there went directly to Meleth's chambers. There was a pink cloth tied to the door handle, so he tapped quietly on the door. Meleth answered and ushered him into the bedroom where Laurelin lay sleeping peacefully in her cradle. They stood there for a moment before going out to the patio, and it was Meleth who spoke first.

"What is it that grieves you, mellon nin?"

The prince got a far-away look in his eyes, "I took The Elite to aid Ralnor's patrol on the eastern side of the Mirkwood Mountains. Yrch. When we arrived, the battle was fierce; elves and dunedain were fighting side by side."

"Dunedain? How did they come to be so far East into Mirkwood?" Meleth recognized the darkness that suddenly covered his face and took his arm to prevent him from turning away. "Tell me what you know."

"There were human women in the caves, captives of the foul beasts. It seems to be great sport for orcs to have human females as slaves for their personal pleasure..."

Meleth put her hand over her heart. "Ai Elbereth, no!

"They have been kidnapping human women from villages all across Eriador," he said bitterly. "These were taken from their village in the Ettenmoors. The warriors gave chase with the clan close behind, following them through the mountain pass. There were a few children and an infant who were with those taken. The children were found in the first day, abandoned on the trail, but the infant was not among them." 

"You believe that infant to be Laurelin," Meleth asked as she walked back into the bedroom to retrieve the baby. "Why?"

Legolas sighed, "I overheard the child's father speaking to Ralnor. He still holds hope that Eru spared his only child, even after tracking them for two months. When she was not among the captives, his anguish and that of his wife was hard to bear. He spoke of a child with golden curls and shared birthmark, a crescent moon. His on the forearm, hers..."

"On her back," Meleth finished and handed the sleeping child to the prince. The baby stirred at the movement but didn't waken.

"The rest of the patrol is bringing the dunedain here to rest and heal before heading back over the mountains and," he flushed suddenly, guilt written on his face.

"What is it, Legolas?"

"Ralnor and I have not told them we have her," he whispered. "I did not want to believe her family was found."

Meleth placed one hand on the child's head and the other on her friend's arm, her smile warm. "You have done well to keep this secret, wise Prince Legolas." His look of confusion made her chuckle. "When the dunedain return, you know we will have a feast for them. And that is where we shall present them with a gift beyond measure. Come, let us prepare for celebration!"

-oOo-

King Thranduil offered a small garden just inside the gates for the Dunedain to camp in safety. The elves sang songs of peace and healing as they tended to the wounded. Meanwhile, word was sent to Esgorath that the captives had been freed, and the next day the Dunedain women and children were brought to the woodland realm. When reunions were had and all were settled, the elves provided a feast of rejoicing for the families, with many songs and dances to the delight of all. Before the meal was served, Thranduil came to the garden and asked the chieftain and his wife to approach, and he spoke to all.

"Fearful is the wrath of a single Dunedan," he paused as a cheer went up, "and frightening beyond measure is the combined wrath of the Dunedain." More cheers. "And the yrch were treated to the most terrifying wrath of all when man and elf combined forces." The men cheered and made a general ruckus until the king held up his hand for silence. "Evil knows no bounds, and will search to break and destroy their strongest enemies. But not this day. Your victory was complete and brings much joy," he then turned to face the couple, "yet I know you still carry deep sorrow. I am not one to ask anyone's forgiveness, but this day I ask for yours."

The chieftain looked confused, "Lord Thranduil, you have shown us nothing but kindness and assisted us in our most dire need. I, nay we are indebted to you; my forgiveness is yours, though I cannot fathom why you need it."

In reply, Thranduil swept his left hand toward a side entrance where Legolas was standing, holding Laurelin in his arms. As the prince walked forward, the king spoke again.

"The forgiveness I ask is in for delaying your reunion with your daughter."

They stood staring at the child in the arms of the prince, unable to move or speak. Laurelin was facing forward, chewing on the head of her cloth doll, completely unaware of her parents or the gathering in general. At last her mother found her voice.

"It cannot be…"

"I found the child in the forest a little over two months past," Legolas said as he stepped closer. "Ralnor has been fostering her with his wife; you spoke of your child to him and mentioned she shares your crescent moon birthmark. This child has a crescent moon on her back."

The mother reached for the child. "Gilraen?"

The baby looked up at the woman and studied the face before her, then looked at the king who gave her a warm smile.

"Go on, little orc."

Legolas handed the baby to Ivorwen who started crying as she clutched the child to her chest. Dirhael wiped his eyes and embraced the both of them and didn't let go until Gilraen started to fuss. He then turned to the prince and the king, placed his right on his heart and bowed his head, even bending slightly at the waist.

"My lords, I would forgive you till the end of the age and beyond if it meant I would have my joy returned. Hannon le is inadequate, but my thanks and joy run to the very foundation of Arda."

One Hundred Eleven Years Later

Arphen approached the throne and gave a small bow. "My lords, a ranger has come with the creature Mithrandir spoke of."

"I shall meet him, Ada," Legolas said as he rose from his seat.

"We shall go together," the king replied. "Mithrandir said he was to be delivered into my hand."

They could smell the captive well before they reached the gates and grimaced as Arphen opened them. Huddled before them was a pile of bones covered in greyish skin pulled taut. The creature was bound and gagged, the lead held by a ranger of the North.

"Mae govannen, Thranduil o Mirkwood," he said in a quiet but gruff voice and bowed. "Mithrandir asked that I bring the creature Gollum to you once found."

The king gave a disdainful sniff at the creature, then raised a hand to call forth a guard. "Take the filthy creature to the dungeon, and send word to the wizard that he is here."

The guard nodded and took the rope from the man and had to drag the whimpering creature away as it fought against his new captor. Once he was gone, the ranger took a deep breath and exhaled with a small smile.

"That was the cleanest breath of air I have taken in more than a month."

The corners of the king's mouth showed the barest hint of a smile. "Only for Mithrandir would I do this; he must hold you in high esteem…." he trailed off, waiting for the ranger to give his name.

"I am called Strider."

The elves exchanged a brief glance before each gave a slight nod of their head. Then the king turned to go. "My son Legolas will see that you have a comfortable place to sleep this night."

Man and elf stood and stared at each other for a moment before the woodland prince spoke.

"Mae govannen, Aragorn Arathornion." Strider grasped the pommel of his sword and Legolas held up his hand. "Peace Strider. Lord Elrond felt the woodland realm should be kept abreast of Middle Earth's future, as it is one we all share. Your secret is safe."

He let go of his sword and gave a nod. "Geheno nin, Legolas Thranduilion."

"Come, I shall show you to your chamber. But first, I have something you may like to see," Legolas said, leading the ranger into the halls, stopping in a small parlor. "Wait here, I shall return in a moment. Arphen will bring you something to eat and drink."

Aragorn paced as he ate some of the best bread and cheese he'd had since his last stay at Imladris. As he drained his wine goblet, Legolas returned and bade him sit.

"There is one other reason Lord Elrond told us of your lineage," Legolas said and produced a small dagger from behind his back, "knowing that the son of Laurelin-Gilraen would hold a special place in our hearts."

The ranger took the dagger and stared at it in wonder, turning it over several times before looking up at the prince, eyes wide. "This is a blade of Numenor, from the house of Isildur. I carry its twin." He pulled an identical blade from his belt. "Tradition says the sister-blade is carried by the protector of Laurelin of the Woodland Realm… But I thought it was just a story."

"It is," the prince replied, "one we sing of on occasion. I was that protector for a short time, and if ever you are in need, I shall be once more."

Gilraen's son slid the blade back in its sheath and reverently handed it back to the prince. "She would have appreciated that," he said, his eyes gathering a mist of tears. "And if my mother's faerie tales of you hold true, then I would be glad of it as well."

Legolas took the dagger and clasped Aragorn on the shoulder. "Come, let us dine on good food and memories, mellon nin. And know that until time itself winds down, you have the friendship and the bow of Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood and finder of the little orc who would give birth to the King of the Restored Realm."

The End

AUTHOR'S NOTES

In case you didn't catch any of the clues along the way, this was based on the horrifically wonderful fic Legolas by Laura. Are you surprised? So was I! LOL This is my first ever story in the Tolkien universe, and it would never have been written if not for a post on Tumblr posing the following thought that birthed the plot bunny:

Imagine a Legolas by Laura rewrite where instead of all the weird sh*t it's literally just Legolas trying to look after a baby by himself and not knowing what the hell to do omg

This is the result of that post. I hope you all enjoyed the "real" story of Legolas by Laura as told by Dayna, without all the weird stuff.