"Duty Calls"
by Miss A
“I remember
when he was just a boy,” Thranduil sighed his eyes rolling slightly as
he nodded toward the gated doorway.
One
of the king’s attendants strutted ahead of the Evlish Lord, gracefully
moving, making an attempt to be undaunted by the sounds coming from behind
closed doors. Moans, giggles, hushed whispers and mumbles all came nearly
unfiltered through the doors and thin walls of the elegant tree house.
Thranduil stepped along easily urging his attendant forward to open the
doors. The silence from within struck the moment the fingers of the attendant
slung open the exterior gate for he and the King to pass through.
“Sir,”
the attendant gulped slowly fearing the result of what he was about to
say, “Are you certain you wish to send Legolas forth to the fellowship.
Perhaps another, any other of your children, to be precise?”
Thranduil
kept his expression even, suppressing a glare to reward the question of
his judgment. He nodded ahead for the door to Legolas’ abode to be opened.
The servant bowed understanding the answer to his insipid line of questioning.
“He
outshines all others with his skill, despite his,” Thranduil coughed lightly
to avoid a snicker, “other activities,”
The
door swung open allowing Thranduil to stand in the midst of the entryway
looking inside the room and at his youngest son, Legolas, reclined on an
unusually large bed. The silvery patterned sheets and spreads lay in neat
order and the elf was resting atop them reclined against the frame, holding
a book, appearing at complete ease and leisure. He looked up as if pleasantly
surprised at his father’s sudden appearance.
“Father,”
Legolas smiled sweetly, setting the hardbound volume down at his side.
Thranduil
raised an eyebrow, before returning the greeting. He advanced two steps
cocking his head to the side. The same blonde hair hung from his head as
it did his son, only he lacked the inviting braids to the side. He preferred
straight hair hanging at the sides of his face, bound thrice by bands.
Lord Elrond had introduced him to the style years before. He took a once
over of the room, his features of a thirty-year-old earth man, feigning
to look keen. Once again his eyes fell on his son, the face of which screamed
the epitome of innocence.
“And
a good evening to you as well, my son,” Thranduil returned face shadowing
a slight bit as he continued abruptly, “I will come straight to the point,
Legolas. I require your services on behalf of Mirkwood. Evil is brewing
in Mordor as you know and since our forces here have lost track of the
creature Gollum, another hard blow has been struck against the free peoples
of Middle Earth,”
Legolas
nodded, facial expression unchanged, watching with an attentive stare as
his father took three steps deeper into his room. He stiffened watching
his father begin to take seat on the edge of the bed where he, himself
sat.
“A
council has been called together at Rivendell by Lord Elrond, concerning
a matter very important to all peoples. I’ve elected to send you in my
place. You know my heart and my wishes very well and you are the most skilled
with a bow in all of this forest,”
Legolas
nodded his eyes staying tightly locked with his fathers. Two pools of blue
mirroring each other it seemed.
“Take
two attendants of your choosing. Be swift, Lord Elrond says time is of
the essense, which means only one thing, my son,”
“Man
is in danger of death by some horrific and timely fate,” Legolas guessed
deadpan, never one to hold back pleasantries when talking candidly to his
own father.
“Precisely,”
Thranduil smiled at his son’s keen logic, much like his own.
“It
will be an early start, do not linger too long when morning’s first light
makes itself known,” Thranduil bade standing from his seat on the edge
of the bed, “You’ll most likely see your friend, that ‘son of man’ Strider
there, isn’t that what you call him. The one you brought here a few years
ago?”
Legolas
eyes lit up momentarily before he remembered he had questions still.
“Father,
what exactly is this council going to convene on. I mean, what is this
all about?”
Thranduil’s
face turned grave, “IT has been found,”
The
words hung so simple and effortless, yet conveyed a great meaning. A meaning
greater than Legolas felt able to properly process in the coming minutes,
but felt at ease to process over a length of time, which he obviously had.
He watched solemnly as his father turned from him, taking quick graceful
steps from his room.
“Be
well, I know this is a heavy burden, but one you, I’m certain, can assume
duty of,”
Legolas
stared ahead, giving a slight nod, as he reached for his book once more,
this time, shutting it. The attendant waited for Thranduil to completely
clear the way of the double doors before he began to close them, bathing
the room back into solitude. Before the task could be complete, Thranduil
turned abruptly, catching Legolas complete and somewhat shocked attention.
“And
for the sake of your brothers below you, make sure Mormegil, Joy, Ambrosia
and Penelope get home at a decent hour,”
Legolas
eyes went wide and Thranduil could have sworn he saw the young elf’s ears
twitch momentarily. Legolas’ lips parted leaving his mouth a bit open as
he sputtered.
“I
do not know to what you are referring,” Legolas immediately squeaked in
defense.
“Surely,
even YOU my oddest of children, do not read volumes upside down as a means
for leisure,” Thranduil replied with a smirk having made well with his
teasing.
Legolas
immediately averted his gaze from his father’s, finding anything more inviting
to gaze at during the moment, especially his own bare feet. The doors began
to swing shut once more and Thranduil turned away from the room. He began
his stride all the while stifling a chuckle at the predicament of catching
Legolas in the act of hiding away his Harem and under that excessively
large bed no less.
“Father!
You forgot about Anne!” Legolas called after him, obviously mending his
embarrassment to find humor in it all as well.
Thranduil
let out a low chuckle waiting for his attendant to catch up with him.
“Yes,
it’s easy to remember him as a boy, even with two thousand years distance
between such times,” Thranduil sighed, “What with that innocence and wit,”
“Not
to mention dashing good looks sire,” the attendant chimed in, before looking
away to avoid the confused stare of the king.
“Yes,
that too I imagine,”
##(fin)##