Nin Chronicles: My Word

Long Bow

"I have been thinking," Legolas said, a little louder then normal.

Thranduil peeked over the top of his book. Legolas stood directly in front of him, looking at him expectantly.

"About what?" he asked.

Legolas's face fell. "About my warrior training!" he mumbled.

Thranduil concentrated on the serious expression on Legolas's face. "You been doing a little more then thinking, have you not? I received a certain report from Hyrondal and I am sure you know exactly what it said."

Legolas squirmed. "I was near the weapons room, and I could not help it. I had to enter; the blades and bows were singing my name!"

Thranduil set the book across his knee and leaned his cheek on his hand. "Hyrondal reported when he came up to see me as per my orders after I received his note that, when he entered the room, you nearly blinded him."

Legolas flushed. "Well, I did not see him come in; he should have made more noise. Anyway, the important thing is I did not blind him."

Thranduil waved that away. "Have you been up to your room yet?"

Legolas looked a little guilty. "Ah . . . no. I cleaned it out a few days ago, and I did not want to do it again today!"

Thranduil shrugged. He picked up his book. "Come back to me and we will pick up the discussion where we left off after you been up to your room. When I told you to run up there at breakfast, I cannot recall mentioning anything about cleaning it . . ."

Legolas collected his disappointed face and slumped out of the room. Outside the door, he struggled to hold back the tears in his eyes, and deal with the hole in his heart. He could not believe it! Ada had not even remembered it was his birthday.

The elfling slumped his way up to his room, his head and shoulders drooping. He wondered where the twins were, hoping he would meet them on his way upstairs. He could use their company to bring the sunshine back into the day. Ada had not remembered . . . it was unbelievable, and it hurt. How could he have forgotten? After all they been through and the many times he said he cared . . . and he had not even remembered . . .

Legolas stopped outside the door to his room and stared at it. He felt like he was being punished, sent up to his room for no apparent reason at all. He did not want to go on. Not now. Not ever.

Legolas made his way to the end of the hallway, opposite the oaken door leading into his father's big bedroom, and stepped out onto the balcony there. The hall curved away from the door, and led downstairs. The fresh wind and air greeted him, blowing away some of his angry, hurt emotions as he leaned on the railing and stared down at the treetops. He squinted as he picked out the forms of Elladan and Elrohir, chasing each other. He thought about joining them, but rested his chin on his hands instead, and watched them until both elflings disappeared after a rough wrestle on the pine covered forest floor.

He straightened, his spirit revived, though he still felt abandoned and alone after ada had not even remembered his birthday, and dragged his feet to his room. He might as well do as he had ben told before he went back down to sit in stony silence with his father. As he opened the door and looked in, feeling his heart sinking again as he thought of the warm nights he and Thranduil had spent cuddled together on his bed, his eyes opened wide and a scream escaped his lips.

His hurt feelings abandoned, replaced by slight guilt at thinking his father had forgotten his birthday, he stared at his bed in disbelief, reaching out a hand to touch it just to make sure it was real and not a dream. The red bow fell away under his fingers and, as he heard footsteps at the door, he swung around.