Woodland Prince

Chapter 1

Harthor

"Lord Elrond, how are his studies coming along?" I ask, catching sight of my friend.

"He is very gifted in his language studies, but is constantly distracted during history," Elrond grumbles. But the slight tone of disappointment disappears with a shake of his head. "He is headstrong like his father."

"Whose father?" my nephew calls, approaching from the bridge. He has a tall stack of books and scrolls in his hands, but does not appear to be burdened by the weight.

"Prince Legolas' father, Arthon. The Prince is apparently training as a guard instead of alongside his father," Elrond says quickly.

"Ha! I wonder what King Thranduil will think of that. His own son, a common soldier along his borders instead of an asset at his side," Arthon chuckles.

"Do not speak ill of the ElvenKing, Arthon. He is not forgiving of such words against his son," I remind him. I have not told him of his ancestry while he has been studying in Rivendell. I believed that he did not need the pressure of royal lineage nor of the decision his father made in leaving him in my care. Perhaps it is time he learned.

"Lord Elrond tells me that you have been... distracted in your history lessons." The healer glares at me slightly. I know he does not usually enjoy teaching my playful nephew.

"History is not my favorite subject, no. It is so easy to understand the events of the past. I want to learn how to prepare for the future. I wish I could study with Lady Galadriel and her court."

"Have you written to her?" I ask.

"She cannot have me at this time. She has been dealing with what seems to be some sort of corruption," Arthon sighs.

"Perhaps you could study in the Woodland Realm. I am sure King Thranduil would like the opinions of someone new," Elrond suggests. "There is little more for you to learn here if you will not study your history." I shoot him a slight glare. I cannot predict how Thranduil would react to his long lost son returning.

"I am not sure that would be the same type of learning experience. Mirkwood is not the forest it once was." I warn. I decide that if Athron wants to go to Mirkwood, I will not stop him. Fortunately, Arthon does not seem to like the idea of spending time in the locked caverns of the ElvenKing.

"That place seems a bit too sloppy for me. I would rather see a real diplomat work."

"True, the woodland elves enjoy their wine, especially the king, but they still manage to keep their realm together," Elrond admits. Arthon puts his hand to his chin.

"I'll think about it, fair?"