Feä Bond (Legolas x OC)

If this is goodbye

Three long years

Eryn Lasgalen.

Legolas sat, cross legged, on the damp moss near the lake. Its crystal-clear water shone like a gem, reflecting the cloudless sky above him. The breeze brought him the scent of the forest. Joy, relief, completude washed over him, send by the trees themselves to ease his heartache. The elf closed his eyes, and touched the bark of a willow tree that engulfed him in a hug. His luxurious leaves were basking in the sun without fear, thanking him for his sacrifice, chanting his praise for defeating Sauron and giving them another chance at life.

In truth, their reassurances gave him a little respite from his aching soul, some balm on the ghastly wound that had torn his heart to shreds. Legolas often came here, on the banks of this childhood lake. Many happy memories lingered in this place, some of his mother and even those of his father, laughing, his blue eyes shining with joy as he contemplated his wife and son soaked in a water battle. For many a year, Legolas had resented his father's absence from his life when he needed him the most, his beloved mother's death taking both his parents away from him. The King was unable to surface from his grief to give his own son the much-needed support he craved.

But now he understood; forgiveness came along a newfound respect for his father. Himself would not have been able to take care of an elfling, for his strength was failing him and his soul fading. But the King was denied such a fate, and had faced his responsibility to the kingdom of Greenwood. Legolas ignored, until then, the extend of the weight on his father's shoulders. It shed a new light on his taciturn disposition, and the lack of light in his eyes. Thranduil was not allowed to fade; he never gave up. For his son, for his people, for the forest that was now regaining its former strength and glory.

Legolas closed his eyes, falling in a trance as the energy of the tree enveloped him. Somewhere at the back of his mind, the sound of rushing waves disturbed his communion with the willow tree, the sea longing forcing its way in. But the plant accepted it, integrating the rolling song of the waves to his own soothing lullaby, its energy flowing in and out like a tide around Legolas' feä.

The sun continued its course, unperturbed by the life of those little beings below, lowering on the horizon. The soothing song of the tree increased in fervour, the rhythm more joyful, anticipation rising in the rushing lifeblood below its bark. Legolas' eyes opened, awakened by the sudden mirth in the clearing. There was only one being that could muster such a merry dance, one being whose inner Feä was strongly intertwined to the forest, its most faithful guardian.

"Ion nín. I have such fond memories of this place."

Legolas turned around, greeting his father with a smile.

"So do I. It always soothes my soul."

Thranduil held his hand, face serious, eyes so intense that few Ellyn could bear it.

"Come, we must talk."

Father and son, hair shining in the setting sun, started walking along the lake's bank. Thranduil kept silent for a while, looking for the right words. But in truth, there were none that could ease his suffering, nor his son's.

"I had hoped that the forest could cure your ailment, but I have come to accept I was misled."

Legolas shook his head, his face desolate.

"Nay father, it has helped. But it did not cure you, and you know I do not have the same affinity with Greenwood."

Thranduil's breath hitched, and he stopped in his tracks, his jaw slack. How stupid of him, to think that he had been stealthy enough for his son not to realise his own heartache! Of course, Legolas knew how he suffered, how his mother's absence had broken him. Who was he kidding? To think that his shift in character went unnoticed, even when he kept Legolas' at arm's length?