~TA 2608~

Thranduil let out a long breath and turned his gaze from the songbird's nest he had been focusing on to look at his son.

"Why are you asking me this now, Legolas?"

"Adar," he began tentatively, "tomorrow I begin my first patrol."

Thranduil thought his son was a bit over-anxious for his new role in life, but he supposed all young warriors started out that way. He shifted his focus again to the nest. Small beaks were likely opened to the sky. It was too high to see it, of course, but Thranduil knew from the squeakish chirp that the little ones were looking for their mother to return and feed them.

"I know that you do not speak of it often -or rather at all, but I am to be a warrior of the realm. Should I not know the full history of the ranks I am to join? You were there, Adar. Who better to hear it from?"

Legolas had, of course, learned about the Last Alliance during his lessons, but he was never quite content to learn of such things from his tutor and nearly always prodded Thranduil for tales of his own experiences. This was one topic, however, that even now cast a dark shadow on the Woodelf king's heart. It was something that he would rather not discuss.

Thranduil took another long breath. He had carefully avoided this conversation up to this day. That in and of itself had been no small feat. It had certainly come up before, but Legolas had been easily guided to other topics. Looking at his son now, it was obvious that he was no longer an elfling who could be turned from his thoughts by talk of dragons - or even of baby birds.

"That was a very long time ago, and things were very different in those days. Even now when I look to the south," Thranduil began, his voice a barely a hum above a whisper, "I feel a constricting in my heart reminding me of the horrors of that war. Telling me that it is still not over."

He fell silent for a long moment, gathering his thoughts together. If he were going to pass this knowledge to his son, he would do it wholly and without censorship.

"Very well," the king said steadily, "As you know, your grandfather had been in Elu Thingol's court."

A sigh that spoke of beginning exasperation caught Thranduil's ear and he raised an eyebrow at Legolas.

"Yes, Adar, I know. And after the destruction of Doriath he brought the family to Greenwood along with a handfull of other Sindar who were willing to follow him."

"Do you want to hear this or not, Legolas?"

Thranduil nodded at Legolas' mumbled apology and wondered again at his son's impatience.

"We left many of our friends and loved ones behind," he continued. "I would not say that it was a decision any who made the journey regretted, but there was always the knowledge of events happening outside of our borders that were having an enormous impact on those we left behind. And, in a different way, on us.

"We knew Imladris was massing an army of Elves and Men and that a great alliance had been struck between Gil-galad and Elendil. Gil-galad had sent messengers to my father on several occasions, entreating us to join with them.

"We watched the dwarves expand and reinforce their bridge over the Anduin. We listened to them speak of the coming war. They did not wish to fight, and aiding Gil-galad in this way bolstered their egos.

"My father brooded long over the fight to come. Many nights I saw him walking among the trees, for most of the battles of the Age had passed us by. I was content to stay in our woods, but Oropher warred with himself. He never put his own desires above those of his people, but he did still feel a connection to many of those who remained west of the Misty Mountains

Thranduil was not sure he wanted to give Legolas his father's view of Gil-galad and initial reaction to the request that Oropher and his wood elves join in the coming war. Oropher was less than impressed with what he saw as more than just a simple request from someone he termed 'that upstart calling himself the High-King.'

"The alliance had been in place for some four years when the representatives arrived again seeking our help in the struggle. It was the third time they had come to ask your grandfather for aid."

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~SA 3434~

Thranduil maintained a quick pace as he strode toward his father's hall. He was leading two messengers from the west, one man and one elf. Thranduil wondered if this was going to end the same way that the other visits had - Oropher enraged and the messenger, or in this case, messengers politely escorted away.

Looking back at the two following him, he noted with some satisfaction that Gil-galad had sent a different elf this time, and Elendil had sent his own representative. Interesting. Hopefully this pair had more sense than the last.

The King's Hall stood in the center of the village and blended into its surroundings as if it were simply a room in the forest, barely discernable from the forest itself. He had seen the way the messengers had both seemed awed by the ornately carved wood of the building. Good, Thranduli thought to himself. They would do well to remember that they were no longer in Lindon or Arnor.

He nodded to the guards, both armed with spears, at the main door to the King's Hall and entered as the doors were opened.

"My lord," he said as he knelt bowing his head, one knee touching the floor before rising again. "We encountered messengers from Lindon and Arnor along the northwestern border."

Oropher showed no sign of surprise at the unexpected visitors, but instead just waved them forward. Thranduil joined his father on the dais holding the king's carven wood throne as two guards stood on either side of the messengers.

Both messengers bowed before the elf spoke first, "Your grace, his majesty High-king Gil-galad sends his warmest regards."

Thranduil nearly snorted. High-king of whom, he found himself wanting to ask. He was certainly not 'high-king' in Greenwood, despite what he may think. A discreet glance at his father confirmed that Oropher's face remained impassive, but Thranduil knew from watching the previous messengers' attempts that they were already fighting an uphill battle.

"And we receive his regards in all the warmth with which they were sent."

The look on the messenger's face was not masked quickly enough. He was obviously unprepared for such a cold reception. Thranduil wondered if he had been warned at all by the previous messenger. Indeed, it was likely that Greenwood would have joined the alliance sooner had the request for their participation not seemed more like a command from on high than a request. Thranduil knew that his father was torn in matters pertaining to the war being waged in the south, but he also knew that Oropher's pride would not allow him to answer a summons from Gil-galad or anyone else.

The human was next. He bowed a second time before speaking. Thranduil thought he deserved credit there.

"Elendil, King of Men, also extends his warmest regards to our friends, the elves of the Great Wood."

For several long moments, Oropher did not respond. Thranduil wondered if he was trying to find a way to tell the messengers to leave and take their orders with them. He rejected that idea, however, because it seemed to him that his father was rarely at a loss for words. The messengers certainly appeared uncomfortable. Thranduil supposed that was good. Everyone was more cooperative if they thought there was something to gain.

"And what request comes with such warm regards?" Oropher asked at length.

Thranduil thought his father actually sounded as if he did not know why they were here.

Both messengers handed letters to one of the guards, who brought them to Oropher. The king read them, looking unsurprised.

"I will have my response ready for your departure in the morning. Until then, you are welcome to stay and enjoy the blessings of Greenwood."

And that was it. Thranduil was a bit surprised that Oropher had nothing more to say. He had assumed that the usual talks would occur, followed by a quick departure, but there was nothing. He supposed everything had been said before that needed to be said.

As the guards escorted the visitors out, Thranduil turned to his father.

"The usual?" he asked.

"At least it sounds less like a summons and more like a request this time," Oropher grunted.

Thranduil could not help the slight smirk.

"Perhaps they are learning from their mistakes."

"One can only hope."

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Thranduil smiled, greeting his parents as he took his seat at the table. The day had been rather long and the next promised to be longer.

"There is a singing this evening, Thranduil," Anirael said lightly as she filled first her husband's and then her son's plate. "Are you planning on attending?"

Thranduil could have rolled his eyes if he were the sort to do such things. He had been down this road with his mother many times before.

"Naneth," he began.

"I am simply asking, dear."

Thranduil accepted the plate offered him, thanking Anirael. He could not help but notice a slight tremor to her hand as she handed him the plate. His eyes moved from her hand to her face. A smile was there, but so was sadness.

“I am planning on attending, yes.”

Thranduil glanced at his father. Clearly, a conversation had taken place that he had not been privy to. Oropher's face, as usual, betrayed nothing, but Thranduil had enough experience to know that the conversation had been a grave one.

“You have already made your decision!” he accused.

Oropher was, of course, not obliged to confer with him, but Thranduil was accustomed to having his voice heard in matters of state. He was appalled to think his father would make such an important decision without him.

Oropher looked at Thranduil calmly. “I have not come to a final decision, Thranduil."

“You cannot be seriously considering this, Adar. We cannot abandon the forest to what may come while we are away fighting in foreign lands.”

“I will have no talk of war at my table.” Anirael effectively cut them both off before tempers could erupt.

Thranduil held his father's gaze for a moment longer, then looked to his mother.

“No,” he replied, “of course not.”

Anirael nodded, momentarily pacified.

A long moment of tense silence passed in which Thranduil desperately searched his mind for something comforting to say to his mother. He noticed his father had slipped his hand over and rested it on hers. .

"I am happy to hear that someone was able to pull you from that cave you spend too much time in this evening."

Thranduil blinked.

"I spend no time in a cave, Naneth."

"You may as well. You spend far too much time behind an office door and not nearly enough time socializing with... people."

"You mean ellyth."

"I mean anyone, Thranduil, and I am serious."

Thranduil sighed, "I know you are, Naneth, and I will try to see more ellyth in the future."

Oropher chuckled..

"I am certain that Thranduil is capable of finding suitable companions for himself Anirael."

Thranduil could do nothing but shake his head at the conversation.

“Perhaps between the two of us we can find someone who meets our son's overly high standards."

Thranduil nearly spit his wine, but managed to choke it down instead. He looked at his mother. She certainly seemed to have recovered from her earlier upset.

"Overly high standards? Surely you are joking!"

"Well, I have introduced you to several charming and very attractive ellyth, but you hardly give any of them a second glace. If you do not take the opportunity to get to know any of them, how will you ever know if one of them is for you or not?"

From the corner of his eye, Thranduil noticed that his silent father was now smirking. Apparently Oropher and Anirael had had this conversation before.

"I just know, Naneth. Surely you and Adar just knew." Thranduil smiled and raised an eyebrow, "at least, that is what you always told me."

Anirael smiled at Oropher. Thranduil thought that her eyes were still not smiling as they should.

“I knew immediately,” Oropher replied, smiling at Anirael.

Thranduil found himself warmed by the thought that at least his parents did not appear to be arguing. Perhaps he had misjudged his father in assuming that Oropher had made up his mind without hearing his counsel.

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The cool evening air was filled with elven voices welcoming back the spring after a long winter. Thranduil found himself only able to partially enjoy the evening. His mind was still on the conversation at dinner and he was certain that Oropher was now leaning toward joining the war.

Feeling an elbow in his ribs, Thranduil was pulled from his thoughts to find Taldur watching the approach of two figures. Thranduil was surprised to see it was the two messengers who had arrived earlier.

“Play nice,” he said as he moved toward the two, flanked by Taldur and Cevenion.

After nodding and exchanging niceties, Thranduil introduced his friends and attempted to make light conversation, ignoring the talk of the potential war the new-comers were here to bring them into that was going on around them. It was not something at which he was particularly skilled, but he thought he managed to keep from embarrassing himself.

“Do you have such events in your homes?” Thranduil asked his guests.

The man, whose name he had learned was Poldon smiled at him. “Generally the king's minstrel's are the ones doing the singing, though occasionally later in the evening others will join in - after imbibing in ale a bit too much .”

Thranduil was not certain if the man was insinuating something or not and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“We do occasionally pass the evening in a similar manner,” Echuir, Gil-galad's messenger, added, “though we are not generally sitting on a few fallen logs or the leafy ground.”

Thranduil saw Taldur open his mouth and was grateful when Echuir hastily added, “It is refreshing to be in the air under the stars.”

He was doubly grateful when the pair decided to excuse themselves to their quarters.

“Do you think the king will answer the call this time?” Cevenion asked.

Thranduil looked at his long-time friend. He could not say for sure, of course, but he suspected that the king would, indeed, agree this time.

“I do not know,” he said at length.

Cevenion was married, but he did not have elflings. Thranduil found himself looking around at the other warriors assembled and thinking of those who had families who relied on them.

As his gaze drifted over the crowd, his eyes fell on the young daughter of Vondil, his father's field marshal in charge of teaching new warriors how to apply their stealth and archery skills to more military pursuits. He had tried not to, but found his eye frequently straying in her direction. She was far too young for him to consider. After all, her life had really only just begun. It had not been more than two summers since she had come of age.

Thranduil shook his head. He did not have the luxury of spending his evening eyeing the maidens. Excusing himself, he rose and turned toward home.

As Thranduil walked toward his chambers, he saw that a light was burning in his father's study. He stopped and knocked on the door, entering when his father called him in.

“You are back early,” Oropher said unsmilingly.

Thranduil suspected he knew why he was here, and dropped into a chair at his father's bidding..

“I would speak with you, Adar.”

TBC