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"Legolas."
The word falls from his lips with more warmth than it has in centuries, and it hits him with the force of a hammer blow just how right Mithrandir was. Calanthe was warm and tender, full of love and life. How she would hate what he has become. An empty shell, so afraid to love that his own son willingly chooses exile. He has become cold, his son's name little more than another mode of address for a soldier, not the record of every happy moment spent with his wife, condensed into one perfect being.
"Legolas," Calanthe breathes, her bright green eyes sparkling, her titian hair plastered to her face. She pauses briefly, exhausted from the struggle to bring their child into the world, before continuing, her tired face aglow, "our little leaf. It is a perfect name mell-nín is it not?" Thranduil smiles down at her, and the angelic little bundle in her arms. It is not a name he would choose, but it is indeed perfect. He drinks in the scene, imprinting it on his memory forever, this little piece of heaven.
"Your mother loved you..."
How could he have refused his son this knowledge? He constantly dwells on her, every memory as crystal clear as the day it was made, yet his son has not even a name. She loved him, and he has never even taken the moment it would need to tell him that.
"With a sigh you turn away
With a deepening heart
No more words to say
You will find that the world
Has changed forever
And the trees are now turning
From green to gold
And the sun is now fading
I wish I could hold you closer"
Calanthe ends the song, the last note drifting away over the trees. She smiles down at the drowsy baby, her green eyes lighting up. "Do you like that one Tithen Las? It's an old song, one of my people from far across the sea. Every child across the sea knows it Tithen Las, and you are far more precious than any of them. I love you Tithen Las. More than you could possibly imagine." Legolas gurgles up at her, his fists gently waving. Thranduil smiles as he watches them, newly escaped from his duties as King to spend time with his little family.
"More than anything..."
Of course she did, she would do anything for their perfect miracle. Anything at all. Of course, he would too...at least, before his life's death.
"Come on Thranduil." He turns away, knowing that the moment he looks he is lost. A soft hand turns his face towards her and green eyes shine pleadingly up at him. "Please? For me?" He hesitates. There is so much paperwork to do, so many audiences requested. His wife's patient eyes stare at him, and he gives in.
"Fine." Legolas shrieks with delight, clapping his hands. He, of course, doesn't have the faintest idea what is happening but the pure joy on Calanthe's face shows him that something good is going to happen. Thranduil laughs and swings the toddler above his head. "Do you like the sound of that Tithen Las? A whole day just for ourselves and no one else! You and me and Nana and the whole wide world to play in." Calanthe winds her hand around his arm and drags him away to prepare, and he follows willingly, his son tucked under his arm.
"More than life..."
His voice drops so low that it is almost inaudible. How long has he waited to tell his son this? The last message from his Nana?
"Thranduil?" She whispers, her musical voice full of disbelief, raspy with pain. "Is it really you?" He is weeping, his mithril armour stained with blood and gore, though none of it seems to matter, other than the bright spots of red seeping from his love's broken body.
"It's me Calanthe, I promise. Oh, mell-nín, I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. Just hold on, the healers are coming, just a little longer, please." She coughs, crimson blood seeping out of her mouth.
"It's not your fault melamin...I...I'm so sorry. But I don't think I can wait." His heart seems to freeze at the whispered words, and his voice is frantic when he speaks again.
"No. Nononono. Just a little more Calanthe, a few minutes, please. Stay, for me, for Legolas, for our son. He's a baby Calanthe, he can't grow up without you." She smiled weakly.
"I...I wish I could stay... to see him grow Thran. I love him so....much, just...just as I love you. My heart aches Thran, but I...I must go. I can hear the...the music of the halls, calling me and... I must obey. I love... you, forever. Tell...tell my Tithen Las I love him. More than anything melamin. More than life itself." Her voice is stronger as she gives him the message, her eyes shining with determination. For a moment, his heart swells with hope, perhaps, she might live, just for those crucial few moments. Then the light fades from her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, so full of life and laughter and love. They are suddenly glassy, empty, devoid of the bright spirit that he loves so much. Her hair lies splayed around her, indistinguishable from the blood that covers her. As he stands, staring at his life's blank eyes, he feels his heart freezing, the love inside being buried away, for how can he love when his everything is gone. In that moment, he hates his son for being the one that brought the last loving light to her eyes, the one her last words and thoughts were of. He does not shed a tear, but turns coldly away, ordering preparations for a queen's burial.
Legolas seems to sense the weight behind these words, turning to face his father, his eyes alight with the hope and love that once filled his mother's eyes. And Thranduil feels his frozen heart melt, for how much is his son like Calanthe if he can show such love to his father after millennia of neglect and harsh words. Tears spring to his eyes, dry for so long. Tears of guilt and regret and love, for he has lost so many years with his son. His son who really is so much more like the woman he loved so much and lost so cruelly, no matter how much he physically resembles him. How much he wants to speak, to say what he has just realised for the first time in millennia, to tell his child, his piece of Calanthe, I love you my son. Yet the unspoken words seem to pass to his son, who stands straighter, a happy light in his eyes. As he walks away, Thranduil bows his head, letting the tears flow for the first time since his wife's death, hoping that one day, he can rebuild his relationship with his son. And as he turns so walk away, he whispers to himself the name he has locked away and almost forgotten, the one that he gave their child.
Uivelethen. Child of eternal love.