Chapter 1 – Yearning

The years waxed and waned as the little Prince Greenleaf, under the watchful eyes of a blessed Ammë who loved him, grew.  He spent his many days under the branches of the Birch and Beech trees that surrounded the palace gardens.  The trees were tall and graceful and the leaves would dance with the slightest breeze.  Here he would come with his Amme and his sister Tiniwiel.

Being a young warrior of the realm, Legolas and the other little elflings would leave the she-elves to their duties and race off underneath the trees.  Finding sticks to use as daggers and swords they spent their days re-enacting the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, picking between some of the greatest elves.  It was not important to them if they were living or not, or even if they had fought in the battle, if it was an elf they all revered, then an appearance could be made.

Legolas had his three favorites that he rotated sharing with the others, Glorfindel, Gil-galad and Elrond.  As Elriowiel watched him play, she was always saddened that he never chose to be Thranduil or Oropher.

*I wonder what Oropher would say seeing his son treat Legolas as if he didn’t exist,* she often wondered to herself.  She would always sigh deeply and push the thought away.  *He will love him soon enough,* was her predicted reply.

As Legolas approached her one morning, she steeled herself for the questions he would ask.

“Ammë?”

“Yes Legolas?”  She replied.  This was how she always replied.  This conversation had repeated itself over and over again for the past two years, and it was now becoming more frequent.

“Why is it that I cannot go train with the warriors yet?”  Usually it was a struggle for her son to keep his tears in check and she noticed with despair that they were no longer in his eyes.

*When did I miss it?* She questioned herself.  *When did he become resigned to being the only elfling his age not taken yet to train?  When did this rejection become commonplace in his heart?*

She had been watching him for quite some time now, shunning the younger elflings who thought it great fun to have a prince among their playmates.  All of Legolas’ companions from his ‘battle’ days had now crossed into the realm of the warriors, but he had been left behind.

It saddened her heart to watch him, day after day, sitting on the garden wall watching his friends learning to shoot with the new bows that had been given them.  To watch them be presented with real weapons while he was expected to continue to play with sticks.

She knew he was taunted by some of those who had once been his friends, being called a sapling and a nursling.  What struck her heart the most was hearing that they called him Legolas, the UnPrince of Greenwood.

When she could not give him the answers he needed, he turned his back to her and fled into the woods.  He could not even seek solace in his rooms, for he was still expected to sleep in the nursery.

Deciding she had had enough, Elriowiel approached her husband in the throne room.  “I would speak to you alone,” she said without preamble or courtly pleasantries.

Thranduil nodded and the room cleared out quickly.  All of Greenwood knew better then to get into the middle of a Royal battle and this one looked to be cataclysmic.  Not one of them had a doubt what this battle would be about.  Legolas.