OoOoO

Few things amused the king of the Woodland Realm these days, ruling over his domain in particular. Life had become somewhat stale for the elven lord, a condition which one might have anticipated anyways given that he had lived for over six thousand years. The last six years in particular had worn on Thranduil though, to the point that he kept court in what could only be called a listless manner. All living in the halls of the king knew well the reason why, but they also took care to hold their tongues and avoid the mention of said reason. After all, none of them could possibly guess when the prince would return. So why bring to the forefront that which could not be helped?

Reclining upon his throne, Thranduil turned his staff slowly round and round in his hand. Watching the amber in its tip glint dully in the torchlight, the elf king's expression betrayed no emotion. Even Galion, Thranduil's faithful steward made no move to approach the throne at times like this. It happened often now, that the king would sit and stare at something or nothing for hours upon end. They had seen such behavior before, long ago. It was the beginnings of a melancholy more fearsome and dreadful than even Thranduil's most powerful of furies.

A horn sounded from the direction of the front gate, echoing throughout the cavern before being repeated. This was the signal that the guards at the door had just admitted someone of import, but Thranduil did not look away from the slow turning of his staff. He was expecting Ambassador Tauriel any day now for her report from Dale and Erebor. At this particular moment Thranduil did not feel much like discussing the latest shipment of ores though. Then again, when did he ever feel like doing anything lately?

Steeling himself for what he had no doubt would be yet another verbal fencing match with the fiery-haired former Captain of the Guard, Thranduil slowly let his gaze slide to the walkway before the throne. At first no one appeared, even at a distance as his sharp eyes scanned the length of the path. What could be keeping Tauriel? Frowning, the elven king sat forward slightly and lowered his staff across his knees. He thought he sensed something; a certain rippling of energy from the direction of the front gate. A lone elf rounded the corner at the far end of the walk way, their quick pace confirming that something was indeed afoot.

The guard was very nearly running as they approached the throne, bowing so quickly that their chain-mesh visor swished.

"Aran-nin, it appears that..."

Whatever it was that the guard was saying, Thranduil did not need to hear it. He had eyes only for the person who was with every step drawing nearer along the walkway. Legolas had always had his mother's bearing about him, even from his early days. A clatter echoed all around, and Thranduil vaguely realized he had dropped his staff to the floor. Totally ignoring the guard who was still attempting to announce the prince formally to his own father, Thranduil descended the stairs from the throne as one dream-walking.

Tauriel was with Legolas, but sensing that this moment was not for her to share she hung back. Legolas continued up onto the throne platform alone, his eyes solely on his father. Thranduil seemed both subtly changed and not at all. Time would never alter that smooth face, but the king's eyes told all. Gazing at Legolas, Thranduil's polished veneer of indifference gave way as easily as winter might give way to spring.

"Legolas..." Thranduil breathed, not caring for once in his life who saw the emotions he freely surrendered to.

"Adar." Legolas smiled slightly, and Thranduil nearly lost his breath at how much his son resembled his mother in that moment. "I am home."

"And I could not be gladder for it." The elvenking offered the customary bow of the head and salute of greeting, mirrored by Legolas. Something glittered upon Legolas's finger, and Thranduil stopped dead in mid-bow.

Removing the silver ring, Legolas held it out in the palm of his hand. Thranduil stared like one hypnotized, his blue eyes suddenly glistening with a sheen of bright vulnerability.

"She is safe, Ada, safe beyond the reaches of all harm."

A thousand emotions making themselves known in Thranduil's eyes in the space of a heartbeat, he looked up from his wife's ring to his son. There was openness in Legolas's face, a patient kind of hope that he had not seen since the prince was a very small elfling. Finally, after years of mourning and reticence, the heart of the elf king broke wide open and was healed.

"Ion-nin..." Age, decorum and watching eyes be damned, Thranduil flung wide his arms and drew Legolas to his chest in a powerful embrace. Well-practiced by now at the art of hugging, Legolas allowed his father to envelope him in his silken robes. Their blond heads on one another's shoulders, the king and the prince finally reclaimed a family that had been shattered with the loss of the queen.

Looking on, Tauriel smiled and turned away. There would be time enough for reports and catching up later. For now, all was right with the Woodland Realm.

oOo