Chapter Text
There weren't any green leaves anymore. Or at least, they weren’t properly green except in an increasingly smaller radius around the edges of the king’s underground palace. The spiders were becoming more of a nuisance, and the Elves who guarded Thranduil’s kingdom found themselves more and more often having to shoot stray goblins and stunted orclings that tried to hack their way through the forest in the general direction of civilization. There were still plenty of deer, although some mumbled that even those would either go bad or leave if the goblins and spiders didn’t get them all first. Dol Guldur had been empty for nearly fifty years, but the lingering darkness hadn’t eased significantly, and the Elves still avoided traveling too far south.
Legolas didn’t remember a time when the forest was entirely green. As far back as he could remember, there had always been a shadow in the south. The other elves talked about the good old days sometimes, telling tales in turn around the fire in the guardhouse, but they always fell silent when it came his turn, and their faces became downcast even though they tried to hide it. He had no tale he could tell that they did not already know of, and he had no memory of the times that they had shared in the bright years before he had been born.
He returned from the hunt tired, his clothing stained with spider guts, aching from the endless hours of tracking and watching and sneaking around to keep the spiders from being able to figure out where the arrows that blinded them and snuffed out their lives were coming from. No one had been bitten, so that was a bonus, but the gloom of the forest put a damper on their celebration and so morale never got above neutral until they at last trooped into the guardhouse that sat just outside the palace caves and pulled the door shut behind them.
“The king wishes to speak with you,” one of the Elves preparing to leave on the next patrol informed him.
Legolas nodded his thanks and smiled to hide the way his heart sank. “Immediately, Glanhir?”
The other Elf nodded. “He said he has an urgent matter to discuss with you.”
That didn’t provide any particular information. As far as Thranduil was concerned, every matter was an urgent matter. “Did he say anything beyond that?”
Glanhir sighed. “If he had, I would have told you.”
“Understood. Thank you, Glanhir.” Legolas swallowed a sigh. “We destroyed a nest of about two dozen spiders on this side of the river, and there were signs of other nests just across.”
The other Elf nodded grimly. “They’re getting bolder.” He checked his quiver again and raised a hand as he opened the door.
The next patrol trooped out looking determined but not very hopeful and the door shut again.
Legolas made a round of the guardhouse, ostensibly to make sure that all was in order in case of an unexpected attack, but really because he didn’t particularly want to see his father at the moment and knew that not taking the time to put his feelings aside would attract Thranduil’s attention and probably lead to a lecture.
In the palace, the torches made the caves bright, but it didn’t make the feeling of being underground any less unpleasant. Legolas felt his shoulders tighten as the great front gate shut behind him and had to resist the urge to look back for a final glimpse of the forest. As dark and gloomy as Mirkwood was, it was still worlds better than his father’s halls.
Thranduil was, as expected, in the throne room, sitting on the great stone throne with the air of someone who existed in a constant state of disappointment. He narrowed his eyes as Legolas entered and heaved a sigh as his son bowed. “Did Glanhir not inform you that I wished to speak with you immediately?”
“Forgive me, Adar. I wished to be sure that the guardhouse was secure.” Legolas shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Glanhir said you had an urgent matter you wished to speak to me about.”
Thranduil frowned. “How many times must I remind you not to fidget? Yes, an urgent matter. I need you to escort a human out of the forest. A ranger, mind, but a human nonetheless. We’d rather he not wander too close to our territory.”
“Wouldn’t a ranger know to avoid wandering too close?” Legolas couldn’t help asking. The rangers were supposed to be well-versed in the history of the land that they patrolled and aware of the borders. “He’s sticking to the path, isn’t he?”
Thranduil’s expression soured. “No,” he grumbled. “He’s not.”
“Perhaps Mithrandir-”
“If Mithrandir is involved, there’s even more room for concern. He doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.” Thranduil waved a hand dismissively. “The woods are no place for a human. Mithrandir should know this.”
Legolas knew he should keep his mouth closed. His father clearly wasn’t in a reasonable mood, but, “The rangers are doing a lot of good, Adar. Their work helps us a great deal here.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Thranduil leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Helps us , Legolas? Humans don’t help us. We help them . If it weren’t for my patrols, their lands would be overrun with spiders. The people of Laketown rely on us to keep the dark creatures of this forest from crossing the borders. Even the people of Rohan would find it hard to live if we did not keep watch here. The humans owe us their thanks, and the least they could do is stay out of our way.”
Legolas did not think it would be wise to point out that Rohan was closer to Dol Guldur than they were, and that they were struggling to keep the spiders away from the shrinking area of forest that Thranduil’s people considered a safe haven and home. His thoughts must have shown on his face, though, because Thranduil’s expression went stony and the king straightened abruptly.
“You’re dismissed,” Thranduil said coldly. “Go get yourself cleaned up. I expect you to be ready to go before dawn tomorrow.”
Legolas bowed and beat a hasty retreat before his father could think of anything else to be upset about.
The guards outside the throne room doors gave him pitying looks.
Legolas tried to ignore them. He didn’t want their pity. He wanted a hot bath and a change of clothes and the opportunity to let himself dream of a forest without a shadow, but he didn’t think he would have time with the night already nearly spent.