Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5828977.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Hobbit_-_All_Media_Types, The_Lord_of_the_Rings_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Legolas_Greenleaf/Thranduil
  Character:
      Legolas_Greenleaf, Thranduil
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Father/Son_Incest, Fluff, Angst,
      Smut, Seduction, Costume_Parties_&_Masquerades, Soul_Bond, Dancing_and
      Singing, Belly_Dancing, Alcohol_Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy_Angst
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-27 Updated: 2016-08-30 Chapters: 5/? Words: 10877
****** Consumed by you ******
by LovelyNightmare
Summary
     Desire and love have consumed them.
Notes
     Hello!
     If this seems familiar to some of you it's normal (I tried to edit
     this but I deleted it XD)
     Inspired by Devdas
***** Chapter 1 *****
The little Prince of Greenwood was his father's greatest pride. The newborn
elfling was the most beautiful child that had ever graced Arda. He possessed
his mother's comeliness. And it was already obvious that his fairness would
certainly surpass even his mother's, who was a remarkable beauty. The entire
kingdom was charmed by their new Prince. But none more so than the elfling's
own father.
Thranduil was completely besotted with his son. He felt an overwhelming love
for the tiny elf and he could cuddle his baby lovingly for hours. Thranduil
would spend as much time as possible with his beloved child nestled in his arms
until duty bade him go. Reluctantly, he would leave his little leaf with his
wife or with the nurse.
Thranduil's devotion was immediately fully returned by the adorable babe who
would squeal with delight whenever his father appeared and clutch at the King's
mesmerizing long golden hair, effectively preventing his father from leaving
him.
The more Legolas grew up the more they loved each other if such a thing was
possible. The King and his lively son were beatifically happy and nearly
inseparable in spite of the growing darkness that threatened the Greenwood.
They had three decades of joy and relative peace.
It ended with the dreadful death of the Queen.
Crushed with grief, they could no longer continue their carefree life. And
Thranduil made the most difficult decision of his life. He decided that the
young Prince would be placed in the care of their kin in Lothlorien until
Legolas reached his majority. His beloved child deserved a safe and happy
childhood, far away from the darkening forest which became known as Mirkwood.
Legolas was shocked to hear the news. The elfling wept uncontrollably when he
realized his father would not stay with him. Neither the prospect of getting
new experiences, nor the anticipation of sightseeing Lothlorien, could lighten
his heart.
When the broken Elvenking left his young son in Lothlorien, Legolas was in
agony. Tears were continuously streaming down his cheeks for several days. He
was inconsolable. No one could replace Thranduil. The elfling’s heart was too
full of him. When he used to spend his days with his father he was happy and
time flew. Without his father, all the pleasures the Golden Wood offered were
meaningless and time was so slow.
His only joy in life was to get a letter from his beloved Ada. He would sit
under his favorite tree and read the letter all day, over and over again.
Sometimes, deep into the night, he sat writing letters to his father that he
would never send. Thranduil was the sole focus of Legolas's thoughts and
feelings.
Years passed. Eventually Legolas’s constant pain became a familiar burden in
his chest. He started to enjoy life again, even though he still keenly felt his
parent’s absence.
Legolas, still in his teens, was growing into a beauteous and ethereal young
elf. The maturing prince’s body and mind were changing. His dreams were
different, strange and penetrating. Often, the shadow of a man came to his
mind, invaded his dreams, and teased him. Deep eyes urged the youth to abandon
himself. When he awoke, trembling, Legolas swore that he could still feel the
stranger’s warm breath brushing upon his burning cheeks. That his silvery blond
hair still smelled of the shadow’s hands’ scent. A familiar scent of spring. It
was his father’s earthy fragrance.
Legolas felt as though he had been struck by lightning. At first the poor youth
could not comprehend why he dreamt of his beloved father in such a way. Then
the familiar dreams brought him a kind of comfort since they allowed him to be
reunited with his beloved Ada. With his acceptance, the shadow in his dreams
slowly took the shape of Thranduil. And the young prince accepted that his love
for his father had turned into something else. He cherished this new burning
love and he promised himself he would never let his longing be extinguished.
　
****
 
Legolas and his dear friend Cadworon were lying side by side in companionable
silence in the heart of the Golden Wood, enjoying the beautiful day of spring.
Cadworon was immersed in his history book, Legolas in his pleasant thoughts.
The prince didn’t know why but his dreams had been more real, more intense
these days. He was absently gazing at the hundreds of colored leaves and let
out a contented sigh.
Cadworon raised his eyes from his book and fixed them on his beautiful friend
"What are you thinking about, mellon-nin?" he asked with his characteristic
half-smile. "No. Wait. Don’t tell me" he stopped, pretending he was thinking
hard "You were thinking about…" he let a dramatic pause hang in the air "Your
darling Aaadaa!" he finished with his best falsetto voice.
Legolas laughed heartily. "Are you mocking me, you unfeeling brute?" the prince
answered as he playfully slapped Cadworon. "You know I constantly miss him" he
added melancholically.
Cadworon gently caressed Legolas’s silvery gold tresses "Yes I know, you crazy
boy. You are 45, mellon. In five years you will reach your majority. Your long
wait will soon be over… and you will leave." Legolas heard the touch of sadness
in his friend’s voice.
The young prince was about to reassure his friend when he sensed a difference
in the song of the forest. His beloved father had taught him how to communicate
with Nature. Intrigued, he focused on the trees.
The image they sent him left Legolas breathless with incredulous excitement.
"Ada" he murmured in awe as an overwhelming joy swelled inside him.
Legolas didn’t realize he was crying until he felt Cadworon wiping his tears
away and asking him something with concern.
The youth was so euphoric that he knew he would totally lose his composure
soon. His father could not find him this way! He was not a highly sensitive
elfling anymore!
Trembling, Legolas stood up and ran as fast as the wind toward his talan,
laughing, overwhelmed, his heart beating madly, his vision blocked by his tears
and his hair flying around him. He could hear his father and his friend’s
voices carried by the wind. His father was here! It was not a dream!
Finally, he reached the tree that led to his talan. He burst through his
bedroom and cast himself onto the bed, burying his flushed face into the cool
sheets. The prince tried to catch his breath and to calm his furiously pounding
heart. In vain.
He didn’t sense Thranduil’s arrival.
"Legolas" The deep melodious sound of his father’s voice brought him to tears
again. The prince clutched at his sheets to anchor himself and kept his
flustered face carefully hidden.
"How have you been my little leaf?" Legolas had a lump in his throat, he could
not speak.
"Won't you turn to see my face Ion-nin? We're meeting after so many days"
"Days?" Legolas had somehow found the strength to speak "For you maybe. For
me... 15 years, 6 months, 4 days and 6 hours... You never missed me?"
"Of course I did."
"Lies!" the feisty youth replied, with more strength "Only 5 letters in 15
years! There are four seasons in a year. Couldn't you write once a season?"
Thranduil chuckled fondly. "This makes sense. You are complaining like an adult
now."
Legolas laughed softly. "I am almost an adult you know. I have grown up."
"Then why take time to show your face?" Thranduil asked teasingly.
"’Like sighting the Moon after ages, I fear I'll leave you breathless’."
Legolas quoted one of their favorite poets. He secretly blushed, not believing
he had dared to compare himself to the radiant Moon.
The woodland prince might be young and a bit naïve yet he knew he was
exceptionally fair, even for an elf. He was aware of the admiring glances he
attracted. But Legolas was not particularly vain and he had no desire for the
meaningless admiration of strangers. Now it was different. He hoped the elf
that had haunted his dreams and his thoughts would find him comely.
But for now he would keep his face hidden.
"Then I will have to wait for the Moon. We will see which leaves me breathless…
the Moon’s radiance?... Or your vanity?" Thranduil jested.
It warmed Legolas’s soul to see how easy it was to return to their banter.
The Elvenking kissed Legolas’s buried head "I will leave now Ion-nin. I have
not fulfilled my obligations yet. I needed to meet you first. We will be
together tonight" The incredibly loving voice of the king made Legolas dizzy
with joy and love.
When Thranduil left the room, Legolas touched his head with wonder and then
burst into laughter.
"Now I must compete against the Moon!"
***
The meeting with the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien had taken much more time than
what the King of Mirkwood had expected. It was after midnight. The stars were
shining brightly, the Moon was high in the sky and the wood was completely
silent. Thranduil sighed. His son must be sleeping. The King himself
desperately wished to let his travel-weary body rest. Yet he wanted to see his
dear son first. He had come all the way from Eryn Lasgalen because he could not
bear his little leaf’s absence any longer. And he knew he would sleep better
after seeing his dear child.
He entered an empty talan. Surprised and slightly worried, Thranduil wondered
if Legolas was waiting for him in his own rooms. A window was wide opened. As
he peered through it, he caught the sight of a sleeping figure sitting on one
of the branches of the mallorn and bathed by moonlight.
Unprepared, his eyes unblinking, Thranduil gazed at the most breathtaking
beauty he had ever seen.
His son had been so wrong, he thought. Legolas’s glow was beyond all
comparison. The scarred Moon could not compare with him. Fragile, pure,
flawless, his loveliness in which childhood met maturity outshined the Moon’s
pale radiance.
Without even realizing it, Thranduil had easily jumped on the branch and was
now looming over the enchanting youth like a strong animal over a frail
offering. Calm and filled with awe, he watched hungrily the sleeping beauty for
a long time. Entranced, he slowly began to lean down until his avid lips were
only a breath away from his son’s, close enough to let their hot breaths
mingle. Thranduil’s soul and body were greedily getting drunk with his son’s
fresh scent and incredible sweetness. His scarred soul was drawn to Legolas’s
innocent spirit. He wanted to caress the smooth and supple skin with his
trembling lips, to find oblivion from his pains within this pliable, unmarred,
helpless body.
The spell was broken by this disturbing thought.
Then a sudden and powerful surge of protectiveness rushed through the horrified
father who slowly stepped back.
He would never let anyone defile the purity of his precious little leaf. Of the
son he loved more than anything. More than life itself. He would never let
anyone take advantage of his vulnerable son, least of all himself.
Proudly, Thranduil refused to feel humiliation. This desire had been nothing
more than a natural response to beauty. Nothing more. The Elvenking had always
fiercely loved and longed for Beauty in all its forms. And his body had
shamelessly betrayed him. It would be better to forget this unfortunate
reaction altogether.
He pressed a chaste kiss to his son’s lips and tenderly gathered his sleeping
child in his strong arms. The king returned to the talan with his son securely
cradled against his chest. Legolas barely stirred in his father’s possessive
and lulling embrace.
　
Legolas woke up feeling a deep contentment. Stretching lazily in the morning
sunlight, he enjoyed the scent of his father, which was stronger than ever,
wrapped around him like a lover’s embrace. With his eyes shut he could almost
believe that he was at home again and that his Ada had tucked him into bed the
previous night.
The prince blinked as realization struck. Last night he had sat on his tree
while he had been waiting for his father so that he would not have fallen
asleep on his soft bed and missed him. His plan had obviously failed. The
whisper of the trees had lulled him to sleep. And he knew he had not come back
into his bedroom by himself. It could only mean one thing.
Legolas was grinning so hard his face hurt.
Half an hour later a very unprincely-looking Legolas ran out of his talan to
see his beloved Ada.
***
Silently, catlike, the Prince of the Woodland crept into his King’s talan,
hoping to surprise his father. He could see Thranduil’s back as the Elvenking
was writing at his desk.
“I know you are here, ion-nin” Thranduil was amused. No matter how hard he
tried his son had never been able to catch him unaware.
“Not fair!” The prince laughed as he threw himself at his father, practically
jumping on the broad back. Legolas wrapped his slender arms tightly around his
king’s neck and breathed deeply in the unique scent of his skin, rubbing his
cheek against his Ada’s.
“What brings my Moon down to Earth today?” The king was tenderly caressing his
son’s soft cheek, happy to see his leafling acting toward him as he had always
done.
“To take your breath away.” Legolas was jesting and he could not understand his
father’s sudden stiffness.
“I missed you so much” the prince breathed against his father’s skin. “Say… you
never missed me Ada?”
For Thranduil, there was no greater pleasure than teasing his innocent little
leaf. “Me? Never, never, except… Nay, never.”
“I never came to mind?” Legolas asked softly.
“Matters that come to mind are matters that matter”
“And I don’t matter!” On the verge of tears and heartbroken Legolas released
his father from his embrace and sat on the king’s bed, turning his back to
Thranduil and missing his father’s smile.
“But you matter to me Ada. Your 5 letters, I read them 5 times a day. How many
times did I read them each year? And how many times in fifteen years?” Legolas
was riled up.
“Multiplied by…?” Thranduil adopted a tentative and hesitant tone.
“27375 times. That’s how much you matter! And fifteen years to the day, I have
kept thinking about you. How many hours did I spend missing you?”
“If I were to count…”
“131400 hours. So much you matter, every second I remembered you. How many
seconds to a day?
“I know… I’ll tell you…”
“You’re bad at arithmetic.” Legolas castigated, trying to bite back his tears
“You are so old, for you it must have happened in the blink of an eye.” He
could not prevent a sniffling.
Thranduil could not bear his son’s obvious distress. He dropped the pretense.
“There were times when I missed you, ion-nin.”
“When?” His son’s voice was tentative.
“Whenever I breathed.” Thranduil answered honestly as he enfolded his slightly
quivering little leaf in his arms. “Silly. So effortlessly you counted off
those seconds? Without as much as a thought to every passing second… that
carried me away?” The memory of these years of loneliness made the king’s heart
ache and he tightened his grip. He felt his son shaking softly against him and
he caressed the supple back soothingly.
He took his son’s beautiful face between his hands and wiped away the tears
with his thumbs.
“Please… Promise me you will never leave me again, Ada… Yes?” Legolas clutched
at the front of his beloved father’s shirt.
“I promise I will never leave you, ion-nin” Thranduil vowed, his voice tight
with emotion.
Legolas smiled brightly and Thranduil’s heart smiled too. A few tears kept on
falling from the bright and innocent eyes. Legolas started and brought a hand
to his face.
“Oh no… I did not want to cry like an elfling…” Legolas rubbed his eyes with
the back of his hand.
“Oh Legolas!” Thranduil replied with a chuckle “You have grown yet you will
always be my little leaf. You may cry to your heart’s content in front of me."
The king kissed the remaining tears away. He tenderly kissed his son’s eyelids,
cheeks and instinctively his lips. Indeed he used to kiss his son on the lips
when Legolas had been an elfling. Startled, Legolas gasped. And the Elvenking
realized, too late, that Legolas was too mature now. His son’s cheeks were
burning under his hands.
He released his son’s red face. He could read relief, joy, a bit of
embarrassment and… something else in Legolas’s eyes. Something he didn’t dare
to name. Thranduil put more distance between their bodies.
“Tell me, ion-nin, you are old enough to wear braids yet your hair is unbound
and in disarray.” Thranduil remarked, running his fingers through his son’s
tresses.
Legolas laughed, leaning into the touch with delight “It is because of you! I
could not wait to see you.”
“Then since I am guilty I will braid you hair myself.” Thranduil was
enthusiastic: he had never had the occasion to braid his son’s hair before.
When he had last seen his son Legolas had still been too young to wear braids.
“Are you sure? You never braid yours… Do you even remember the proper way to
braid one’s hair?” the prince asked teasingly. Legolas was secretly thrilled at
the prospect of having his father’s hands in his hair but he also wanted to get
a little revenge.
Thranduil raised one royal eyebrow and dropped his hand. Legolas instantly
missed the contact.
“You are right, my old fingers have certainly forgotten.” The king answered as
he left the bed and then the talan.
“What? Nay Ada I was merely jesting!” Legolas chased after his father. He
caught up Thranduil easily. “I am sorry, Ada. Please comb and braid my hair.”
He begged with his hands joined in prayer. “Please, my poor hair is so sad that
way.” He pouted and he shook his head so that his hair fluttered. The king’s
lips twitched with amusement. Legolas smiled at him hopefully. Thranduil shook
his head, no. And he left once more.
“Ada, please.” the prince whined as he followed his king. He tried a change of
tactics to get his father’s surrender. Quick as a cat, he pounced on his
father, tackled him to the ground and straddled him. With a lock of his unbound
hair, he tickled the kingly nose. Thranduil capitulated with a deep laugh. He
sat up, smiling, without dislodging his son.
Legolas’s heart skipped a beat or two as he realized the situation he was in.
He was about to move when Thranduil buried his fingers deeply into Legolas’s
thick and silky soft mane, massaging the sensitive scalp. “I suppose you are
not hiding a comb, ion. So my fingers will have to suffice.” Slightly light-
headed, Legolas nodded and closed his eyes.
He was undone by the tender touch of the powerful fingers on his scalp and by
the sensation of the vigorous body against him. He inhaled the adored fragrance
of the warm body. The touch and the nearness of his beloved father made him
highly sensitive. His world narrowed to his sensations. This sweet intimacy of
which he had only dreamt so far seemed surreal. Overwhelmed, the youth gripped
his father’s waist. The feel of the spread fingers lazily combing his heavy
mane was delicious and lulling. The youth was floating in bliss. He sensed a
familiar arousal heating him. He let out a dreamy sigh. This real touch
overshadowed the phantom caress he had experienced.
But it was not a dream. Trembling with fear, he wished with all his heart that
his beloved Ada had not noticed his shameful reaction. He had been parted from
his father for so long; he knew he could not live with Thranduil’s rejection.
But he didn’t sense any repulsion in his father’s touch. Slowly, reluctantly,
he opened his eyes to observe his king. Thranduil’s beautiful face shone with
quiet wonder and… lust?
Then for one fleeting moment their eyes locked. Legolas clearly saw hunger in
the slightly darkened blue eyes. All the blood inside the prince filled his
cheeks as he parted his enticing lips in a silent invitation.
But Thranduil broke their connection. “I think I need a comb, ion-nin.” He
announced lightly. Then he gently removed his son and he rose. “We should make
ourselves presentable, I hoped you would show me all the wonders you discovered
in the Golden Wood.”
Legolas stared at his father silently for a few moments before he jumped to his
feet with a happy laugh “Of course, Ada.”
***
As soon as Legolas realized his father returned his passion, an overpowering
excitement seized him. His heart was shaken by a storm of joy and impatience.
Somehow he had always known, deep inside him, that he was intended for his
father. Now his entire being sang with the knowledge that they were meant to be
together.
His mind was filled with this sublime and calm conviction. His father's
morality and denial were the only things that stood in his way. He had to
persuade his reluctant father to bind to him. The masquerade Celeborn organized
in honor of the King offered a perfect opportunity.
Thranduil and he spend several days together, happy and aware of the silently
growing attraction between them. Legolas found it extremely difficult not to
reveal the deepest feelings of his heart immediately. But he would wait.
Finally, the day of the masquerade arrived.
A bit apprehensive, Legolas luxuriated in a hot and fragrant bath and let it
lull him. It was a habit he had inherited from Thranduil.
"Legolas" It was his friend's voice at the door.
"Come in" the prince answered, startled. Cadworon entered and smiled at the
sight of his princely friend languishing in his bath in the candle lit room.
"Mellon, judging by the time you spend in a bath I am sure you actually are a
water elf... or a kept courtesan" he remarked, sniggering.
"And you know a lot about water elves and courtesans?" Legolas commented,
raising one golden eyebrow. Cadworon shrugged noncommittally. "What brings you
here my friend?"
"It is difficult to see you these days, little prince." Cadworon said as he
leaned forward, his hands resting on the rim of the tub. "And I did not think I
would be able to find you during the masquerade so here I am."
"Ooh you felt lonely withouth me?" the prince asked in jest while he playfully
splashed water at his friend. It was unlikely since Cadworon was a very
spirited and popular elf who had many friends.
Cadworon caught Legolas's slippery hand and brought it to his lips, staring at
his prince. He answered in a whisper "Yes I did. And I missed you a lot."
The prince frowned. There was something different in his friend's eyes. And his
attitude was slightly disturbing "Cadworon?"
Cadworon leaned down and pressed his lips against the prince's. "I love you
Legolas"
Legolas started and stared at him, shocked. He opened his mouth to answer but
no words emerged.
"Are you really surprised Legolas?" he stroked the prince's wet shoulder "I
have never met an elf as blind as you, you know" he gently mocked him.
As he tried to kiss him once more, Legolas turned his head and said firmly
"No." Cadworon stiffened and repeated "No?"
"I am sorry my friend." Tears were pooling in Legolas's eyes.
A long silence hung between them after Legolas had spoken. Heartbroken, the
prince wondered if he had just lost his only friend. Cadworon's sad laugh broke
the silence. "Don't worry, my prince. I didn't really expect another answer.
And you will always have my friendship, silly elf" He had easily understood the
nature of the sadness in his prince's eyes.
"I know you are in love with your father."
Legolas froze. Cadworon had always been too perceptive when it came to
Legolas's feelings. He looked up at his dear friend. There was no judgement in
the hazel eyes.
"Yes I am and I am going to reveal my feelings to him tonight." Legolas knew he
didn't have to lie.
"What?" Cadworon was shocked "You can’t be serious. Will you ask him to accept
you as a mate or to give you a place in his bed as a lover? You are his heir,
his son. It's forbidden. He will turn you down."
Legolas was silent for a long time. Then he said slowly "I must tell him. I
love him. He is my everything, my Lord." and he added softly "Dear friend, I do
not know what will happen if he rejects me."
Cadworon stared at Legolas in disbelief for some time and sighed "I will always
be here for you, Legolas and I will help you if I can." he smiled faintly
Grateful, Legolas whispered "Thank you"
"I do love you, you know" Cadworon declared before he left.
 
Two hours later Legolas was ready for the masquerade.
Legolas clung to the hope that his father would accept him, even if he had to
defy the gods' wishes. The prospect of being rejected by him was so terrible
that it was beyond his imagination. He had no alternative but to go on hoping.
He wore a white shirt made of a material so fine it was transparent, sewn with
scattered tiny diamonds and close fitting black velvet breeches that clung to
his long shapely legs. He did not put on shoes. He wanted to feel the Earth
under his bare feet. His silvery gold tresses simply hung loose, unbraided,
streaming behind him in a bright river. The white and small domino mask did not
hide the innocent beauty of his face.
His deceptively simple attire emphasized his otherworldly and ethereal
comeliness.
He swallowed, nervous, and made a little prayer for success.
 
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
As the Elvenking finished his preparations for the upcoming celebration, sounds
of merriment were already coming from everywhere, surrounding him. Celeborn had
invited everyone in Lothlorien to take part in the event. Thranduil put his
mask on and left his talan.
The torch lit forest was crowded with disguised elves who were dancing,
singing, drinking, playing music and looking for a unknown partner with whom
they would spend the night. Thranduil must reluctantly admit that the Golden
Wood was the fairest place in Arda. Indeed the enchanted forest didn't need
many embellishments. It was a perfect and idyllic setting in which one could
easily hold a feast. Unlike his own forest which was invaded by shadow and
death.
Thranduil chased his envy which was most unbecoming of a king. Moreover he
should be grateful. He knew his host had chosen a masquerade as a favor to him
since there was nothing official in this feast. Masks allowed a temporary
liberation from the pressures of official rule. And the Elvenking wanted, for
one night at least, to forget his griefs, his worries and this… tension, this
madness which had lately grown between his son and him.
Thinking about it made his stomach churn with shame and disgust. And fear. He
did not blame his son for this situation. Legolas had always been his jewel of
innocence, his sanctuary, the last pure thing in this dark and cruel world. No,
he would never blame his precious son for his own depravity and weakness. Yet,
the more time they spend time together, the more the usually iron-willed king
was overwhelmed by his dark and impure desires. Every night since his arrival,
he dreamt of the numerous ways he could possess his little leaf. If it were
just a mere physical attraction, he would easily have fought it. But there was
something more here. An emotion that was insidiously making him lose his
control. It frightened him.
He made his way toward one of the long tables which was covered with food and
wine. He picked up a bottle of wine and drank deep. He had always loved
opulence be it the gleaming gold, the pure starlight silver, glittering jewels,
fine silk, gourmet meals or rich wines. Thus he had often indulged himself in
the pleasure of drinking because it was an enjoyable tasting experience. But
since his wife’s death he drank to forget, to find strength. Right now he
didn’t care about the texture or the perfume of the wine he was greedily
gulping down.
He needed to forget and to erase this shameful lunacy.
***
The young prince of Mirkwood entered the vast clearing in which everyone of
importance in Lorien was usually gathered during festivities. He looked around
to spot his father.
Legolas's attention was drawn to the dancing floor where couples were
gracefully moving upon the sound of a merry tune, swirling and exchanging
partners when they had made a full round around the circle.
His heart skipped several beats when he caught sight of his beloved father
amidst the dancers. He had recognized him in an instant, for Thranduil stood
out even among the disguised crowd. Indeed no costume could fool Legolas: the
Elvenking was the epitome of royal grace, of elegance, of beauty, of power. No
mask could possibly conceal him from his eyes. However his father's various
partners seemed oblivious to his identity.
Dressed as the night sky, Thranduil's attire was elegant and simple. For once
no coat or long tunic covered up the king's vigorous and well-made figure. He
wore a deep midnight blue velvet tunic adorned with intricate silver
embroideries that reached his upper legs, matching leggings and shining black
knee-high boots. His face was hidden by a silver star mask.
As he stared at his father, his impatience was growing and his heart was
beating faster. He was waiting for the opportune moment. When Thranduil was
about to have a new partner, he jumped into the circle, outpacing a poor
maiden. The next moment he was in the arms of a surprised Thranduil. His speed
had propelled him against his father who had wound his arms around the slim
waist to steady the youth. Legolas wrapped his arms around his father's neck as
they danced.
Thranduil didn't try to separate their bodies which were tightly pressed
together.
"Legolas Thranduilion" he murmured with affection "Your improper behavior
betrayed your identity."
Legolas laughed softly and tilted his head back to look up at his beloved
father, his eyes sparkling. "And this remark betrayed yours, showing how
ancient you are my lord Thranduil." he chuckled "When did you notice my
presence Ada?"
"As soon as you arrived my shining little leaf. How could I fail to see you? To
recognize you? Your glow makes the Moon blush with shame and weep from
shyness." The compliment spontaneously came to the slightly tipsy and relaxed
king. He had often secretly admired his son's astounding beauty since their
reunion. He had even teased Legolas for it. Never before had he praised his son
that way. Gallantly. He knew he should not have said those words yet it didn't
care. He had meant them.
Face aflame with pleasure; Legolas let his talented father lead the dance. He
felt like he was freed from gravity. Thranduil was a peerless dancer. It was
remarkably easy to follow his lead. The warm and strong hands directed him, the
firm touch made Legolas's barely covered skin tingle. His body felt deliciously
warm.
Legolas's turn was over but he did not release his father who made no move to
free himself. The prince was vaguely aware of the whispers of admiration around
them.
"You are a remarkable dancer Ada"
Thranduil winced behind his mask "This is a hard-won skill believe me, ion-nin,
gained through long hours of hard practice. I honed my dancing skills with a
fierce determination after one of my father's scathing remark."
"What did he say that hurt your pride?" Legolas asked with genuine curiosity.
"I was very young and unmarried at that time. During some festivities he
publicly told me I was a pathetic dancer who would never been able to find a
wife."
Legolas frowned in incomprehension "What does wedding have to do with dancing?"
Thranduil gave him a half-smile and bend over to whisper "He used to say women
are not attracted to men who cannot dance. For a man who doesn't know how to
dance doesn't know how to make love.*"
Legolas blushed and his eyes grew wide. “Oh” he said with a tight voice.
Then the young prince decided to do something daring: he pressed himself harder
against Thranduil to let his father feel his blooming arousal, which was
heightening. The hands on his waist tensed but the youth, who had expected his
father to shove him away, tightened his grip on Thranduil’s neck and brought
the beloved face closer to his, his gaze meeting his father’s.
“So, is it true?” he breathed out softly. He shyly kissed Thranduil's uncovered
chin and his thumb gently brushed the sensitive tip of one ear, knowing well
what effects such gestures could have.
To Legolas’s delight, his father did not pull away. On the contrary, the king’s
hand on his back dug into his flesh and he felt how his member hardened against
him. But what made him dizzy with joy was the helpless desire in Thranduil’s
beautiful eyes, proving once again what Legolas already knew: that he was not
the only one experiencing this irresistible attraction. That his father was his
mate.
“I will let you judge.” The king murmured hotly. It sent shivers run down the
prince’s spine.
As they kept on dancing, Thranduil started to move his hips wickedly and
tactically against his son’s. Legolas’s felt a burning heat surged through his
body. He moaned softly, he wanted to move and to shift his hips to increase
their pleasures. But Thranduil’s iron grip held him in place so Legolas just
surrendered to him with a profound relief.
He was on the verge of orgasm when the music, and Thranduil, stopped. Legolas
tried to catch his breath, he was sure he could cry from frustration.
Thranduil gently released him and kissed his brow “I hope you have your answer,
ion-nin” The Elvenking had spoken in a voice so low that Legolas had almost not
heard him.
A moment later Thranduil ran away.
***
The masquerade was almost over. Elves had drunk and sung and danced to their
hearts’ content. Now they were in the mood for love. Usually at that moment the
youths concluded the feast with a seductive courtship dance. At the end of this
performance they would offer a lamp to the masked and sometimes unknown elf
with whom they wanted to spend the night with. To take it meant that the
invitation was accepted.
So a great crowd of elves was gathered around the dancers in a wide circle. All
the dancers were holding a small lamp, as they waited for the last song of the
night to begin. Legolas stood at the center of the group of dancers since he
would be the only singer. He could feel his father’s disapproving gaze fixed on
him. He knew Thranduil was waiting for the end of the dance to chastise him and
to remind him that he was too young to offer to share the rites of the night.
Thranduil didn’t know yet that Legolas intended to make this offer to him.
Legolas turned his back to the crowd and to his father. He draw his unbound
hair over his shoulder so that it felt over his chest, knowing how the skin of
his graceful back must glow through his transparent and brilliant shirt.
The sounds of the beating drums rose in the air. He took a deep breath to ease
his tension, closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He listened to the sound
of his own inner music and let all his desires, his love and his longing flew
through his body as he punctuated the outer music by lazy and sensuous
undulations of his hips. His feverish passion gradually took hold of him. The
tension fell away and the muscles in his torso relaxed. Dreamy, he slightly
arched his back and rolled his shoulders back and forth to the same slow and
easy rhythm he was swaying his hips.
The music quickened. He twirled around, tossing his heavy mane seductively. His
eyes flew open, luscious with desire and love. He smiled at his father in
adoration as their eyes connected. He stretched his arm to show his lamp and
started to sing. His voice was melodious and light.
This is the lamp of my desire, My Beloved, Come to me now, My Beloved Oh My
Beloved; Come to me now, My Beloved
He began to move playfully in a frenzy action, projecting his energy and the
force of his desire as he made jumps and pirouettes.
With this lamp each part of my body is burning, and so is my heart Come to me
now, Oh My Beloved, Come to me now, My Beloved
He twirled for some time. Then he stayed on the spot, his hips were vibrating
rhythmically and continuously, one hand was playing with his hair. His eyes
were not leaving his father, his Lord.
There was a distance, hence there was a separation. And here I was burning
He bent over backwards until his head and shoulders touched the ground. His
body was arched back like a bow, propped only by the force of his legs, as his
supple upper body and hips were undulating.
 
 
Thranduil stood there, fascinated, spellbound, and hypnotized by his enchanting
child. He wanted to look away but he could not. His legendary self-control was
nothing but a memory, his resistance was broken. He had no control over his
body, especially over a certain part of his anatomy which had gone wild. The
sinuous and sinful movements of the tight and flexible body excited obscure
desires within him and teased him to the point of madness. He wanted to run his
hands all over his little leaf’s lithe body, to explore it. He wished to see
his son arch in ecstasy while he buried himself deep inside him.
Who taught his virgin and underage boy to move this way?
His musings were interrupted by a shout of excitement coming from the crowd. He
looked around and found out that many lecherous eyes were glued to his son’s
form. Thranduil felt a burning anger shot through him, he clenched his fists
until his knuckles turned white. He swore he could tear their eyes out before
he threw his son over his shoulder to take him away.
His son’s plaintive tone drew his attention back to the dance.
Why do you tease, tease, tease me? Oh He doesn't listen to my heart's agony
He did not look away again; his eyes were drawn like a magnet to his dancing
son. He was living the sweetest torment of his long life.
When the music stopped, the laughing and excited dancers dispersed to rejoin
their future lovers, except Legolas who stayed still for a moment as he looked
at Thranduil fixedly. Transfixed, the king did not move. Finally he walked
toward Thranduil, alluring, feline and confident, carrying his beauty and his
desire like a crown.
He knelt with silent grace before his beloved. He gazed at his father with
burning eyes and raised his arms to offer his lamp.
"I am burning for you, my Lord."
The almost purring voice crept into Thranduil’s heart and resounded in all his
being. Slightly trembling, his heart racing, he cupped his son’s joined hands
so that they were both holding the small lamp. He caressed the smaller hands,
unable to answer.
 
Chapter End Notes
     *"If a man doesn't know how to dance he doesn't know how to make
     love, there I said it." Craig Ferguson XD
     Extracts from Devdas's songs
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     I am terribly sorry for the very long wait. I have been busy and I am
     ill. This little chapter was written in a hurry and is probably full
     of mistakes.
When Legolas had knelt before him as though he was a god, his inner fight had
been over. Thranduil had already been lost. Completely and irrevocably. All his
promises forgotten.
When Legolas had said to him words he didn't deserve to hear, it had warmed his
lonely heart. The moment he cupped his son's warm hands, unwanted tears
gathered in the king's eyes.
How could he deny the burning desire that consumed him like a fire when, for
the first time in a decade, he felt alive again? When his son's sapphire eyes
were already tenderly embracing him?
"You are perfection." the elvenking thought reverently before he knelt too,
enveloped his boy in his arms and lowered his head to kiss Legolas who put his
slender arms around his neck, clinging to him and whimpering, the lamp laying
discarded. It was so wrong. And yet this first kiss felt like a homecoming.
Nothing would ever match the sweet delight of his son's velvet lips. He was
really lost. The kiss, tender and sensual at first, progressively became
ravenous and lip bruising.
 
Legolas was a happy panting and crying mess. Everything felt like a dream. His
father had given him the most wonderful, divine, perfect kiss he could have
imagined. Thranduil had released his mouth and, as if his father could not stop
himself, was now showering the youth's face, neck and ears with hungry kisses
while strong hands were sliding along his slender back. Something in the king
had been unleashed and Legolas was ecstatic. The youth ran his hands over his
father's muscled chest as he let himself be loved.
Reluctantly, the young prince stopped Thranduil, cupped his father's cheeks and
touched their foreheads together.
"Come with me, my Lord," Legolas whispered, as Thranduil's removed his son's
mask. "There is one hidden wonder in the Golden Wood that I didn't show you
yet."
***
Legolas was leading his beloved to a secluded spot. It was a well-hidden place
and only those who knew it could find it. It was Cadworon who had shown him
this privy place where Legolas could rest, think and daydream alone.
Joy and delight possessed the youth's soul. His heart was swelled with love.
Everything around him appeared to be even more beautiful than usual. He felt
like jumping, singing, running, shouting. His body seemed incredibly light and
if he tried he could certainly fly. The trees of the forest were singing for
his joy.
He had to turn around many times to make sure that his father was indeed
following him. That he was not a fantasy produced by his crazy imagination. But
he did not try to touch Thranduil. What if his touch made him disappear? Even
if it was a shadow it made him really happy and he did not want to stop
dreaming yet.
He stopped walking and turned to face Thranduil with a mischievous smile, his
hands joined behind him. The elvenking rose an interrogative eyebrow "Are we
arrived?" Legolas shook his head "Nay, Ada. I am just tired of this calm walk."
He wiggled his naked toes and then suddenly sprinted, shouting "Follow me!
Catch me!"
Thranduil gave a deep laugh. He would happily play the hunter. A good chase
always made his blood boil and this chase would be particularly delectable.
A sparkling procession of fireflies appeared before them, making the night
shone and escorting them.
Legolas saw that his father was getting closer but he didn't want to be caught
yet. He ran faster, laughing, his heart racing. When a strong hand grabbed his
shoulder, he squealed and tried to escape his beloved. Yet a second later the
youth was pushed up against the nearest tree, his father's body pressed against
his back.
The feel of the strong body behind him combined with the sensation of the
unyielding tree on his front was simply too overwhelming. His heart was
fluttering like a caged bird. The desire that rushed through him took his
breath away.
He tried to get free, wiggling against his father, using his hands as support
but Thranduil caught his wrists and pinned them to the tree. Legolas could feel
his beloved's hot and quick breath on his neck.
"Stop moving." Thranduil ordered hoarsely into his ear. The youth obeyed,
closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the trunk of the tree, savoring
how he was deliciously surrounded by his father's body and scent.
Thranduil slowly worked his way over Legolas's neck as he kissed, nibbled,
sucked and bit the warm flesh, making his little leaf squirm, ornating the fair
skin with red marks.
"Your skin marks easily, ion-nin." Thranduil hummed approvingly. His arousal
was firmly pressed into the small of Legolas's back.
He released his son's wrists, pulled Legolas slightly away from the tree and
ripped the shining shirt open, tearing the tiny buttons off. Legolas gasped
softly in shock.
Thranduil licked two fingers and tenderly caressed his little leaf's sensitive
rosy nipples in slow, circling movements that elicited adorable little moans
from Legolas. He had wanted to do this since he had earlier seen the lovely
nubs through his son's transparent shirt.
"Hmm you are sensitive," he pinched one nipple and Legolas arched his back"
Those two shameless twins had teased me all night, you know."
Legolas's face turned into an interesting and enticing shade of red, he
answered with a sweet little voice "Please don't talk like that, Ada. I am
embarrassed." He hid his flushed face behind his arm.
Thranduil smirked deviously. "And those wicked seducers made me positively
hungry." he added, as he laid rough fingers upon his son's buttocks, kneading
and massaging the soft and supple flesh, exciting his little leaf.
Thranduil was highly frustrated by the piece of clothing that stood between the
supple skin and his hand, he would love to simply tear his son's leggings but
then Legolas would have to wander in the woods naked and those unworthy
Galadhrim had already seen too much of his little leaf's charms tonight.
"Your sinful body made a shameless spectacle for all to see. I was certainly
not the only one driven mad by you this night" he growled, his voice dark.
He spun Legolas around, crushed him against the tree once again and kissed him
with an all-consuming fervor, tasting the willing mouth while his hands were
possessively running all over his son's so soft chest. All Legolas could do was
clinging to him for dear life and shuddering against him as he muffled his
moans.
At last Thranduil broke the kiss and looked into Legolas's sapphire eyes as he
rubbed his son's swollen lips with his thumb. What he felt for his son was
beyond lust and love. It was a jealous and furious need.
Legolas didn't respond but only caressed his father's face. "I don't care about
the others. What I did was meant for your eyes only, my Lord."
Their gazes locked for several seconds. Legolas made use of his father's
momentary loss of focus to escape him. He raced at full speed, stating in a
sing-song voice "Do not linger Ada, we are not arrived yet."
Thranduil groaned as he followed his son. He was usually a very patient being
but tonight his patience was wearing thin.
***
They finally reached the hidden entrance of a cave. To enter and pass through
it they had to crawl on their hands and knees, the fireflies followed them and
illuminated the dark place, midway they could hear the characteristic sound of
water spilling down into water and smell the sweet fragrance of grass. When
they left the cave, they found themselves directly facing a small and striking
waterfall. The natural spring came out of a rock and cascaded down into a
clear, secluded pool. There were even golden mallorn trees of great height in
the small and intimate place.
The Elvenking caught his breath and stood still for several minutes, observing
the beauty before him. Legolas's soft giggle caught his attention and he looked
back at his son whose animated face was beaming. A hot spark passed between
them and Thranduil smiled, a wicked smile promising endless pleasures.
Legolas gave his father an impish look when he exhibited a long wooden pole. A
second later, his son sprinted, planted the end of the pole deep in the ground,
climbed to the top of the pole, vaulted over the lake and landed gracefully on
the opposite bank. He faced his father and gave a little wave from the other
side of the lake.
Thranduil looked at his son in dismay. Running away was absolutely not the
normal reaction to have after the smile he had given him. His boy had never
known when to stop playing.
Feeling absurdly happy and a bit childish himself, Thranduil closed the
distance to stand at the edge of the pool and put his booted foot in the water
to splash his son who erupted into a fit of laughter and turned his back to him
to protect himself from the water attack, not without casting an amused glance
at his father over his shoulder.
Without warning, Thranduil dived in, disappearing into the water. He remained
underwater, in the silence and the calm, as he swam rapidly toward his son,
excited, his heart banging in his chest like a beating drum. When he came out
of the lake, he smoothed his wet hair back from his face and started to remove
his drenched clothes.
“No more games, ion-nin.”
 
***** Chapter 4 *****
Legolas happily drank in the sight of the most wonderful being in Arda as his
father was standing gloriously naked in front of him, pale, wet, regal and
looking so perfect it hurt. The Elvenking must have contracted some
relationship with the stars. Legolas could never have imagined a more perfect
body than Thranduil's. He took a deep and shuddering breath. Never in his young
life had he desired, needed something with such an overwhelming and compelling
force. Before his dreams of Thranduil, he had not even known what desire was.
Those intense longing and love were somehow terrifying and then, suddenly and
inexplicably, he felt like crying.
His father interrupted his trance when, with a diabolical smirk adorning his
sensuous lips, he made an irresistible and commanding come-hither gesture.
Surprised, Legolas covered his mouth and chuckled nervously, not believing his
King had just made such a vulgar movement. He took a few hesitant steps toward
his heart's deepest desire, his heart thundering in his frail chest, his desire
pulsing in his blood, completely captivated by his gorgeous father.
He stopped, startled when he felt something digging painfully into his naked
foot. He raised his leg and was about to remove the deeply embedded thorn but
his father caught his wrist before he could do it. They were motionless for a
moment. Thranduil was looking at his son's beautifully flushed face with such
sexual intensity that it made the youth tremble with both excitation and fear.
Without breaking eye contact with his son, like a strong animal watching his
prey, Thranduil knelt down and picked up the injured foot, cradling it gently
in his warm and wet palms. He bent his head and pressed his lips to the top of
his son’s foot, silently marveling at it. His little leaf was perfect and his
feet were no exception. Elves were light of foot and could walk barefoot
without being soiled by the dirt. So nothing but the thorn marred the soft,
pristine and graceful appendage.
He gently massaged the sensitive arch of the foot and the dainty toes before
removing the thorn. Legolas gasped as he licked the blood that spilled from the
small injury. Then Thranduil nibbled playfully at the pretty toes, eliciting
adorable giggling sounds from Legolas. He eagerly continued upward, he licked
the ankle and fondled the clothed and firm calf with his other hand.
He finally let go of the pretty foot and buried his head in Legolas's
vulnerable belly, rubbing his wet face against the warm skin and breathing in
the sweet and intoxicating scent of his little leaf before he stuck his tongue
in his son's belly button to taste him. If he could he would eat his son.
Legolas chuckled and squirmed, trying to escape the teasing tongue. He smiled
against Legolas's skin. His boy had always been ticklish.
He slid his hands inside his son's tight leggings to knead the round and soft
buttocks. Legolas moaned very softly as Thranduil massaged firmly the tender
flesh, teasing and stimulating the hidden entrance, while he decorated the
supple and deliciously white belly with purple love bites. Those skilled hands
and mouth sent little shivers of pleasure throughout Legolas's body.
Thranduil ripped the trousers off, leaving Legolas only in his transparent and
open shirt. He let his eyes roam over his son's flushed and naked skin,
lingering on the beautiful erection. He hummed in appreciation as he caressed
Legolas's trembling thighs with a predatory grin on his lips. It had never been
so hard to restrain his lust.
He lifted Legolas as though he weighed nothing to lie him down on the river
bank, near the water. "Ada..." he murmured, staring up at his father with wide
eyes, his entire body shivering, overcome with joy and passion but also with
fear.
"Are you nervous, ion-nin?" Thranduil asked, his voice low almost menacing.
Legolas nodded hesitantly. He was nervous and yet at the same time he wanted
his father's hungry touch, craved it even. He would die if Thranduil stopped.
He had dreamed of this moment for so long but he could not stifle his fear. It
was new to him. He didn't know what to do or expect and his previous confidence
had completely vanished.
Thranduil felt like a giant fist was painfully squeezing his heart, as he
looked at his underage and helpless son who gazed at him with eyes so full of
trust in spite of his obvious fear. Legolas looked so young and pure and
ethereal. He was stealing his son's purity. Corrupting his innocence. Guilt
stabbed the King like a sword. He despised himself. He knew he should stop this
madness before it was too late. But he was not able to stop now. Not when his
son was waiting for him, lying naked, aroused and terribly tempting. Thranduil
had never needed someone that much. He was weak. The sight of his son had
shattered all his reason, logic and self-control.
Thranduil made a sound that may have been a sob as he leaned down to kiss
Legolas desperately, seeking oblivion from his guilt and misery in his son and
in pleasure.
He kissed Legolas hard and savagely, hands sliding possessively along his son's
smooth and small torso. Legolas's welcoming body was warm, trembling and deadly
soft. Utterly delectable. It had never been so easy for Thranduil to lose
himself into the intoxicating and magnificent sensations.
It was impossible to fight against the urge overpowering him.
He hurriedly parted and lifted his son's legs, pressing them up, before he
settled down between them. His son flushed at the position, his eyes were wide,
as he looked down at him, with the look of one deeply embarrassed. "Ada?"
Thranduil didn't answer but spread his son's cheek and let his skilled tongue
licked the hidden entrance, making Legolas yelp loudly in surprise. But he had
no more patience for teasing so he immediately pressed his tongue over the
opening and pushed it in as far as possible, holding Legolas's hips firmly to
prevent him for getting away from the strange intrusion. Yet Legolas was too
tensed and his muscles too contracted. Thranduil quickly replaced his tongue by
two unoiled fingers for a moment. Legolas was shaking with pain but he could
not wait anymore. He madly wanted to be inside and to feel this tightness
around him. He slowly pushed in. It felt unprotected and so divine. He really
didn't want to harm his wondrous son but he was only driven by his desire now
and his entire body was asking for satisfaction. With one powerful movement of
his hips he embedded himself deeply into his son's pliant body and began
thrusting.
*
Pain, there was a lot of pain. His backside felt raw. Reality was different
from his sweet dreams and yet there was no regret in Legolas. He loved his
father so much and he had asked for this so he would not struggle. It was not
Thranduil's fault if Legolas hadn't known what he was asking for. His eyes were
locked on his father's face. Thranduil's eyes were closed and he could only see
passion and pleasure on his father's beautiful face. This expression alone made
every pain worth it. And above all he was united with his soul mate at least.
He may not receive physical pleasure but he was happy. His soul was getting
drunk with his father's scent, nearness, warmth, exhilarated by their intimacy.
Legolas, underneath his sweating father, could feel that Thranduil would come
soon because his thrusts grew more savage and fiercer. He wanted to see
Thranduil's eyes. He gripped his father's shoulders and called softly "Ada."
Finally Thranduil looked down at him, his thick member was still pushing into
his son. His eyes were burning with a near-primitive passion. Legolas tenderly
caressed his father's face and put his other hand on his love's heart as he
tried to match his breathing with Thranduil's. He wanted to bind his soul with
his father's. He felt a golden light filling him. He had already felt the
shadow of this blessed light in his dreams. Now it was stronger and more
beautiful. He instinctively reached for Thranduil's soul to share this light
with him to perform the binding.
Thranduil's eyes grew wide, he could not stop his body from reaching an
overwhelming and intense climax into Legolas but his soul recoiled violently
upon the golden invasion. Gasping and sweating, he pulled out of his son's
abused body.
"What did you try to do, Legolas?" he asked, horrified.
His son looked at him in incomprehension, trembling, his eyes brimming with
tears. "I..." he started.
"I cannot bind myself to you, ion-nin."
An insufferable silence fell between. The only thing audible was the appeasing
sound of the waterfall.
"We made a mistake. I made a mistake, my son." Thranduil was hastily putting
his wet clothes back "I was weak. It's my fault. I am sorry."
A moment later, Thranduil fled the scene in a rush.
Left behind, Legolas did not move. He was staring unblinkingly at the place
where Thranduil had been. Then he drew his legs up to his torso to hide his
soiled body, his mouth was open in a silent scream as his tears started
falling.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     I am terribly sorry for the very long wait!
     Warning for the last paragraph: read at your own risk!
Legolas could almost think it had all just been a nightmare. His secret place
still looked the same, its beauty was still soothing, the sound of the water
appeasing. He could not have possibly been rejected here. The aches in his back
and in his heart as well as the tears which continuously flowed from his puffy
eyes were a reminder that it was the painful reality.
He found the courage to come to his father because he had felt so sure, so very
sure, that his father loved him the way he loved him. That he could hope he
would bind with him because they were soul-mates. But Thranduil’s last words
turned his gift and all the beautiful feelings inside Legolas into something
shameful.
Why did you abandon me, Ada? Don’t you feel I love you more than myself, more
than anything?
 A violent sob wracked his naked body. Closing his eyes, he pressed his palms
over them and breathed in deeply.
Everything could not be lost. He could not have been so wrong. His father was
blind. He had to do something.
“Legolas! I knew you’d find you here! I was so worried.” Cadworon’s concerned
voice filled the empty space.
He knelt next to him but Legolas didn’t move nor open his eyes. When he stroked
Legolas’ hair, he started crying quietly again. Why was it Cadworon who came to
him and not his father? He took his friend’s hand in his, clutching at it as a
drowning person clutched a branch on a bank.
“The clock struck five. The hour of dawn approaches.” Forcing his eyes open,
Legolas looked at the sky as Cadworon wiped his tears away. Indeed, his friend
was right. Yet the sight did not delight him today.
Cadworon gently raised Legolas from the ground and handed him his breeches.
“Come, I will escort you home my prince. Celeborn wants to see you.”
The two went back to Caras Galadhon together hand in hand.
***
Legolas was sitting in Celeborn’s study, clutching at the too big shirt his
friend gave him to cover himself.
“I have to speak to you, Legolas. About your father.”
“Why?”
“Thranduil told me everything.” Shell-shocked, Legolas stared at Celeborn. The
expression of intense pity in the lord’s eyes told him he indeed knew
everything.
“He deeply regretted what happened last night. He gave me this letter.” He
said, pushing carefully the letter on his desk toward Legolas. “He dared not
give it to you himself, not wanting to see you more hurt...”
A cold fear grabbed his heart. A letter? “No! I’ll speak to him!” Legolas
jumped from his chair and made a run for the door.
“But Thranduil left.” Celeborn’s brutal words killed something inside Legolas.
He stopped frozen, his hand on the handle of the door. His eyes filled with
tears. He turned slowly and looked at Celeborn’s compassionate face, hoping
against all hopes that everything was just a huge mistake. It had to be.
He promised he would never leave me. He promised.
“He lacked the courage to say a goodbye even harsher than the one you had years
ago. Be reasonable, Legolas.” Celeborn rose to join him and put a consoling
hand on his shoulder, squeezing it tight as if to bring him back to reality.
“Thranduil left.” He repeated firmly. “Without saying goodbye. He did it on
purpose. It may be hard to believe but he only wants your happiness and this…
special love…, those sexual feelings you harbour for your own father are a
vice. You will see each other once you will get rid of it.”
Legolas weakly removed his shoulder from Celeborn’s grasp and walked slowly
toward the desk, his legs felt heavy. The white letter was waiting to be read,
standing out on the dark desk. Legolas remembered how much he used to love his
father’s letters, how he impatiently waited for their arrival, reading them
again and again and again until he knew them by heart.
Celeborn spoke again. “You love with the passion and the blindness of youth,
mistaking bad things for good things. You don’t realize now that you are wrong
but you will one day and then you will be grateful.” He took the letter and
held it out to Legolas.
***
My Little Leaf,
During the blessed weeks that have passed since your reunion I have been
immensely happy. It pains me to leave you because of our moment of weakness.
But it is a necessity. I do not have the strength to defy the gods’ laws, to
pay the price of the anger that they will unleash if I give you what you want.
I am a coward and it is not likely that I will broach this subject again, so I
will be explicit in this letter. Our blood tie is an insuperable obstacle. I
know the intense agony that you’re enduring. You are an intelligent boy,
conscious of our positions. We would never have done what we did if the inner
pain and loneliness caused by your beloved mother’s death and my shameful
absence had not driven us to do so. I love you more than life my precious son
but I cannot be your soul-mate. I have never felt for you the kind of love that
you expected…
Legolas could not read more.
Weakness. Insuperable obstacle.
I have never felt for you the kind of love that you expected.
He slowly tore up his father’s letter. His eyes and his heart were dry.
He wrote an answer: You left me, when I needed you the most. You betrayed me.
You shamed me. I would have fought against the world for you. I forgot my very
own name when I was in your arms. I love you and I will never forgive you.
He tore up his answer too.
***
Three days later, Legolas went into his adjoining bathroom and filled his
bathtub with a very hot water. Completely dressed, he got in the bathtub, took
his favourite knife, a gift from his father, and quickly slashed his right
wrist with it and then the other. The pain came before the blood. He lowered
his arms in the water, lazily observing his blood flowing out of him, staining
the water red. Eyes closed, he remembered his homeland, the sound of his native
tongue, the sunshine radiating through the fresh colourful leaves of spring,
the song of the wind in the trees, the loving eyes of his mother, the
bewitching scent of his father. Legolas sank into a state of sweet torpor.
Darkness, cold and inviting, spread and enfolded him.
 
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