“Legolas, you did a fine job handling the trade negotiations with the Men of Lake-town,” Father announced, a broad smile gracing his face, after he had surveyed the lawn outside his Great Hall. The expansive enclosure was dotted with tables that had been made ready to accommodate the forthcoming midsummer banquet.

“Thank you, Father. I was pleased to have had the opportunity to prove myself to you.”

“Ah, Legolas, you are certainly a responsible and worthy heir. A father could ask for no more. For that matter, nor could a king!” Father chuckled before continuing: “Our trade with Esgaroth goes well, and we are blessed that the northern realm of our glorious Wood, though her southern regions grow ever darker, remains relatively unscathed by both the looming evil and the interference of the seditious Noldor. With the help of the Valar, may our simple ways be preserved!”

I nodded my head in eager agreement. How blessed we were, indeed! Not only were we, until that point, left unharmed by the increasing darkness, but we were also endowed with such a wise and noble king. How proud I was to be his son!

Father and I simply stood for a moment, enjoying the opportunity to bask in radiant sunlight. I breathed in the sweet smell of the lush grass, allowing my mind to drift as my eyes beheld the beech tree growing beside the nearby pond, its leaves a glorious explosion of dazzling green.

“Shall we, Legolas?” Father’s voice called me back gently, and together, his hand resting upon my back, we strode toward the Hall.