Everlong

74

Even as he made his way upward, he could see the bodies of goblins and orcs alike. There had already been a battle here, from both the intricate slashes and deep gorges, Thranduil could tell at least one attacker to the enemy was an elf. What hope of Liruliniel still being alive up here was carefully harboured and cherished, all he felt running through him was a steely determination to get her out of all of this mess. To get them, and all of their kin back home; Mirkwood may not be the safest, but it was a down sight safer than all of this around them now.

Looking to the elves with him, he inclined his head. They got the message and split up, if anyone of anything was still lurking they would deal with them. Thranduil himself turned and walked quickly up the steps leading to a tower. He sheathed his sword, all the bodies here were those of orcs, and they all appeared to be dead. He looked around confused before looking up at the sounds of movement, from around the corner appeared Legolas. The hope to see his son well and in one piece washed over him, he felt his breath catch though, although Legolas seemed well, there seemed like something was on his mind. He looked a little on edge, an expression Thranduil had come to learn that it was his son not wishing to voice something, because he feared what his father's reaction would be.

"I cannot go back," Legolas looked around the darkened corridor, the bodies, at anything other than his father. Thranduil was silent, watching his son as he deliberated over that simple sentence. Eventually though, Legolas did look up, he still seemed a little distant, even though the look which was being sent his way was one of equal distance, perhaps a little awkward, but this time was always going to come. Thranduil would be a fool if he didn't think it was, Liruliniel had said enough times how she believed Legolas was destined for the wider world, that something out there was calling to him.

"Where will you go?" Thranduil questioned simply, merely turning on his heels as Legolas walked past him. It seemed like his son had determined to go right now, he wasn't even going to stay and see if everyone he knew, or was close to, were all fine. It seemed off, wrong even that that was to happen, even to someone like Thranduil. In his desperate search to find Liruliniel, to find Legolas, he could not watch one just leave now without anything else said between them. As for the former, he would probably think something up only to change tact and voice something else completely, Liruliniel had that affect.

"I do not know," Legolas admitted, he sounded confused. Like he had come to the decision to go on a whim, yet had not fully thought it out. Thranduil couldn't help but sigh, that spontaneity was definitely one of Liruliniel's more irksome traits rubbing off on his son, but he wasn't going to get into that now. Something was amiss, or perhaps, through this whole experience Legolas wished to see more of a world which he could aid in protecting, but he couldn't just charge off without a plan in place.

"Go North, find the Dúnedain. There is a young ranger amongst them, you should meet him. His father Arathorn is a good man; his son might grow to be a great one." Thranduil said in something akin to a whisper as he looked in Legolas's direction, he had half turned to look back on his father. The words in which he opted to use did not go above Legolas's head, especially the almost longing sadness which was lingering within his father's eyes. If he looked closer, Legolas could even swear they were slightly tear filled. He knew the thought of him leaving was tearing his father in two. But he also knew it took a lot for Thranduil to even show a shred of emotion, and put emphasis in his words in such a subtle way to tell his only son that he was proud of how he had come to be; and he was, Thranduil could not ask for Legolas to have been anymore than he was, he was proud of him, even if they had conflicted ideals at times. He had grown up to be of strong character, a brilliant warrior, smart and able to plan, but he was good; above all else, he was a good soul who only wished the best for those he cared about, for those he loved. What more could a father ever expect or ask for from his son?