Disclaimer: Forgot it before, but it's in here now. The characters are not mine.

I hope you enjoy the story, but whether you do or you don't, please review!

The Thoughts of a Father

by Booklover Fanatic

Legolas was his most precious of all gems, King Thranduil decided. His treasure, purchased at the greatest price imaginable. At the price of the life of his beloved wife and queen, was the most costly gem of his heart born.

For she, the first light of his life, was, and always had been, his wife first, or life, if somehow the words were not synonymous, and came first in his heart before even his kingdom. He had loved her with the depth of his soul, and if he had not held his Legolas first, before they had told him his wife was gone, he might have followed her, fading as quickly as she had.

But he had held his child before the devastating news had reached his ears and so he had sorrowfully continued on, for his son, his pearl, even if that son may never truly know of the depth of his fathers love, hidden as it was beneath the layers of stoicism and aloofness upon his stern facade.

And indeed, Thranduil loved his son, as the gem of his heart. He had given every other piece of his soul for the child, and gave the rest his treasure all that was left.

Yet, at times, the King grew fearful, as though the child, his gem, perhaps was not his, and merely a changeling incredibly arrived in the night. Legolas had not the looks of his mother, who had died to give him life. And though Legolas had the fair looks of his father and none of his mother, he had the light of an angel in him, and Thranduil lived in fear of the day when the child of light returned to whence he came.

And this angered Thranduil greatly whenever Legolas asked for her, for his mother, because, even though there was no way for him to know of her, his mother, and unfair for the king to expect it, Thranduil felt as thought he ought, and not remembering the sacrifice was somehow a sacrifice wasted.

But now his son was gone. Not yet forever perhaps, but gone nonetheless, and, perchance, he would never return.

Gone to help those whom had never helped him, help those who had ever been enemies of their people, and he could conceivably die of his passion and kindness.

His son was his one priceless treasure, and one that even now might forever be lost to him.

There may be another chapter for this piece, and I may build a full story off of it. If you want to know more, please read my bio on my author profile page, and tell me what you think!