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~*~
Prince Legolas of Mirkwood stroked the velvety
curtains he had just pushed opened, his room was filled with the light of the
moon and stars. He had not been afraid of the dark since he was a child, and
that was a very long time ago. Now though, after his experiences in the dank
dungeons of King Melèch, waking in complete blackness was not something he got
very excited over.
It had been nearly a fortnight since Lord Elrond rode
towards the Misty Mountains and Rivendell after saving the young elf prince from
a terrible fate. The elven lord had helped Legolas heal after the serious abuse
he suffered at the hands of Melèch and his comrades, and no lasting scars would
remain, but even with all of his skills, Lord Elrond could not erase the horror
that the young elf had endured.
Night after night, the memories of what
had been done to him replayed themselves in his dreams. The first night the
terrible nightmares visited him, he awoke in total darkness, for the curtains to
his tall windows were tightly shut. Although he could see well in the dark with
his elven vision, he did not feel safe until he had thrown the drapes open and
taken in his surroundings. Inside: his room, his bed, his home. Outside: the
gardens and forests he loved so much. Yes, while he was awake everything was as
it should be...but it was at night when his fears and memories surfaced, and
that was not something he seemed to be able to control.
Legolas was an
elf, and therefore could go a great deal of time without much rest. But, the
fact of the matter was, he had already been going a great deal of time without
rest, and it was starting to catch up with him. Every night he would awaken in a
cold sweat after being tormented by the same dreams, and could never bring it in
himself to attempt sleep again. Instead he would sit by his window and watch as
the stars faded and sunlight began to creep over the trees, a new day beginning
again.
This day, like many others, he had spent riding through the
forest with his friends, Raniean and Trelan, and the evening with his father,
speaking about nothing in particular, just happy to be in each other's company.
In the day he was merry and bight, and he hid his weariness well, for nothing
made him happier than being with those he loved in the light of the day. The
young Prince sighed. If only the day could last forever, he thought miserably as
his hand tightened on the curtain fabric. He was acting like a child! Afraid to
be in the dark of his own room. The entire situation was driving him mad and he
wished there was some way he could make it all stop so he did not have to feel
so ashamed of himself all the time.
"Guide me, Eärendil," Legolas asked
the evening star that shined far brighter than all others. "Light my path,
please. For I seem to have stumbled and lost my way."
Leaving the
curtains open wide so as much light could filter in as possible, Legolas climbed
back into bed and soon fell into an uneasy sleep.
~*~
It was dark
and cold. Legolas shivered, but it was from more than just the frigid
chill.
"No, not again," he thought as he struggled against the hands that
held him down, but there were to many of them. He could not get away. He did not
cry out, but he felt as though death was upon him, tearing at his heart and
cutting down his soul. He heard a cruel laugh...Melèch. It was Melèch, laughing
at his pain and suffering. The laugh got louder and louder until Legolas thought
his mind would burst at the screech of it.
He was at the point of
screaming, when suddenly...he woke up.
~*~
The young elf sat up in
his bed, breathing hard and sweat beading his forehead. Wide-eyed, he looked
about him, the glow of the moon and stars dimly lit his surroundings.
He
was not in the cold dungeons of Dorolyn, he assured himself as he tried to calm
his breathing. He was home in his father’s halls, and he was safe. But, if he
was safe, why did he still shutter when visions of memories from not so long ago
flashed before his eyes? Frustrated, Legolas decided he needed to be out in the
free air, and quickly, but silently, made his way from his chambers to the
grounds overlooking the forest.
He sat on the edge of the courtyard
fountain and let his hand dip into the cool water as he relaxed into his
surroundings. Just being in the out of doors helped him to feel a bit better and
he closed his eyes as the wind blew his golden hair about his shoulders. He
breathed in deeply and took in the familiar smells the breeze carried.
"Legolas?" Came a voice from behind him, but the elf prince did not jump
in surprise.
"Shh...listen," he said quietly to the elf he knew to be his
father. King Thranduil came to sit next to his son, and they both listened to
the lovely sound of the wind blowing through the trees. "I love that sound,"
Legolas said after a few moments, his eyes still fixed on the gently waving
trees. "I always have. I was so afraid I would never be here to listen to it
again."
Had anyone besides Thranduil been sitting with him, Legolas would
never have admitted of being afraid of anything. He was still young in the eyes
of an elf, and still felt the need to prove himself, not wanting to show
weakness of any kind. But there was no use in hiding such things from his
father. The elder elf knew him better than anyone, and Legolas did not have it
in him to lie about his feelings to the person he trusted more than anyone else
in all of Middle-Earth.
"You are plagued by your dreams, my son,"
Thranduil stated gently, rather than questioned. He had seen through his son's
attempts to hide his weariness many nights ago.
Legolas dropped his head
to stare at the water of the trickling fountain and gave a small nod, the shame
still fresh in his heart kept him from looking at his father.
Thranduil
cupped his son's chin in his hand and gently raised the boy's head until their
nearly identical blue eyes met. The elven king took one of Legolas' hands in his
own and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I wish I could have been there," he said
with a sigh. "I would have gladly taken your place if it would have saved you
from such pain."
Legolas shook his head almost violently. "No, I wouldn't
have wanted you to. I would not wish my experience on anyone, you least of
all."
Thranduil smiled at his son's brave words. Still so young, yet
Legolas seemed to be growing before his very eyes. The elder elf was well aware
of how close he had come to losing his only child, and now every moment they
spent together was more precious than the first.
Legolas had been hurt
in a way that made Thranduil's heart bleed with sorrow and burn with anger. If
there were only some way he could go back and change what had happened, he would
do so in a heartbeat. That unfortunately was impossible and all the elven king
could do was offer his son comfort and undying love. Legolas was far stronger
than all that had been done to him, now, Thranduil just had to assure him of
that.
"People don't often realize just how much they can learn from the
woodland trees," the King said, and smiled at his son's slightly confused look.
The boy had thought his father would question him further about his nightly
demons, and had not seen the conversation taking this turn. "They have stood
there for ages untold," the king continued. "They have been there longer than I
have walked Middle-Earth, certainly longer than you, and will remain after you
and I journey together to the Undying Lands of the West." He let his gaze turn
towards the seemingly endless forest and Legolas let his eyes follow those of
his father's, waiting for him to speak again.
When Thranduil spoke again
his voice was soft and wistful, "They have come through countless storms, and
still remain beautiful and strong. The trees of Greenwood the Great could rival
any of Middle-Earth, even those in the forests of fair Lorien today. Our woods
were warm and inviting to all who entered. But that was before evil corrupted
much of what once was. "
Legolas only nodded and so his father continued,
"Still, though, the trees continue to stand tall and proud, and I never lose
hope that the glory of Greenwood will be restored one day. For those were times
of great joy and peace."
Thranduil turned to Legolas and smiled. "That is
why, my son, that your mother and I decided you should be named, Greenleaf.
Because your very presence, light and life, remind us of the same light and life
that surrounded us in the forests of Greenwood." The elven King gently brushed
away stray locks of his son's golden hair that the wind had blown into the boy's
face. "We wanted you to grow strong and able to weather the storms of your life
as the trees of Greenwood once did. And you have, Legolas. You have done just
that, and I know you will continue to do so as you go on in life. I know this, I
believe this, and I wish for you to believe it as well."
Tears glistened
in the younger elf's eyes and began to fall in a steady stream. Thranduil wiped
them away with his thumb and pulled the boy into a tight embrace. They sat there
together for many moments, while the wind continued to move the branches of the
trees.
For the first time in many weeks, Legolas felt completely safe and
secure. As he relaxed into the embrace, he let out a heavy sigh, feeling freed
of much of the torment that still haunted him. The elder elf released him so he
could look into the younger's silver-blue eyes.
"Remember something,"
Thranduil bid him. "A tree can live a long life on its' own. But it is when a
forest surrounds the tree, and it has the support and protection of those around
it, when the tree thrives. Remember that you are never alone, Greenleaf. I will
forever be here to help find your way, if ever you should feel lost or alone. I
am here for you...always."
"Thank you, father," Legolas said as he folded
the elf's hand in his own and squeezed it tightly, drawing strength from his
father's love. "Thank you so much...for everything."
Thranduil's only
response was a small nod and smile, nothing more needed to be said. "Come," he
said and helped his son to his feet. "You are weary and must rest. I will stay
with you for the remainder of the night."
"Father, that's really not
necessary..." Legolas protested, but his father put up a hand and cut him
short.
"Humor me, Legolas," the elven king said while draping an arm
around the boy's shoulders as they walked back into the palace. "I have not put
you to bed since you were a child, and nothing would give me more pleasure than
tucking you in for the night as I did so many years ago."
The elven
prince could not help but laugh and gave his father a mocking bow. "As you wish,
my lord."
~*~
For the second time that night, Legolas climbed into
bed, but this time his father was there to pull the covers up to his chest. When
the younger elf had relaxed into the blankets and pillows, Thranduil bent down
and kissed the top of his forehead.
"Rest well, my son, and let your
dreams haunt you no more."
"Thank you, father," said Legolas sleepily,
his weariness having caught him at last. "Thank you..."
The elven king
sat himself in a chair next to his son's bed and watched as the young elf's eyes
stilled and he drifted into a restful sleep.
After so many long nights
filled with fear and pain, Legolas Greenleaf slept soundly though the night...as
he would for many nights to come.
