Chapter Text
He was jolted out of reverie as he felt something tug on the covers of his bed. A small elfling, barely large enough to walk on his own, with tears streaming down from blue eyes looked up at him. “Ada, I’m scawed. Can I sweep with you?”
He wanted to say no. It had been only a few weeks since he’d lost his wife to raiding orcs, only a few weeks since his world fell apart. Still, that was no fault of his son. In fact, he’d been riding in front of his nana when the orcs attacked, and he’d been lucky not to lose a son as well. “Aye. Come here.”
It was several months before his son was sleeping alone regularly, and he hadn’t realized how alone he felt.
Thranduil was an overprotective father. He knew this, he knew his son hated it, but he also knew that he’d never live another day if he lost his son. So when Legolas asked him to learn to shoot, he promptly refused. His son had thrown quite a tantrum, but had, in the end, given up.
It was several months later that he found out Legolas had been learning from one of the captains. Enraged, he ordered his son to be on prisoner duty with Gollum. After all, sneaky as the creature was, it was no threat, and there would be plenty of armed guards nearby at all times. And then Gollum escaped. Unthinking, he ordered the guard who had showed the little beast mercy to go to Imladris to deliver the news. He ended up nearly chasing his son to the borders, trying desperately to bring him back to the caves, back to safety, back to him. No matter how many years had passed, he always saw- and expected he always would see- the little lost elfling standing at the foot of his bed.
Over a year later, thanks to travelling Arda with a dwarf of all things, his son had returned. Thranduil sent a silent thank you to the quiver on his back. An arrow took his wife from him, and almost took his son. An arrow gave him his son back.